Outre
by TwentyOneCatWhiskers
Summary: Dan and Phil get trapped amongst the characters they've come to know and love when they're somehow transported to the world of the Sims and have to establish themselves as they try and figure out a way to get home, living as if their whole lives were starting anew... (Platonic (yet still fluffy) Phan. Complete. Reviews greatly encouraged!)
1. Arrival

**A/N: Apparently there's a thing that I have to do to say I don't own Dan and Phil, so here we go: I am in no way affiliated with Danisnotonfire, AmazingPhil OR The Sims, EA, or any of their characters.**  
 **I wish, though.**  
 **Anyhow, now that that's over with, you can enjoy the story!**

 **-Whisker**

* * *

Dan rubbed his head.

He was currently sat in the middle of an empty road, propped up on one shoulder, feeling very confused indeed.

" _Urgh_ -" he groaned, "What happened?"

He still had his eyes squeezed shut from falling onto the tarmac and the sun was so bright that he couldn't open his eyes anyway.

"I don't know…" the voice of Phil Lester came from beside him, sounding equally as bewildered, "Where even _are_ we?"

Dan turned his head to him and flickered his eyes open, shielding himself from the glaring sun to the left of him with his hand.

Phil stared back at him, looking very slightly scared.

The only thing that Dan could see ahead of him, behind Phil, was a long tarmac road, some nice, aesthetically pleasing trees and a familiar-looking lake. "Phil… Why do I recognise this place?" He stuttered. He was trying to think back to what he was doing right before he found himself in this strange place, but he couldn't quite remember. He was at home, in the office, and that's all that he could recall.

He turned around when a tap on his shoulder alerted him: it was, of course, Phil attempting to get his attention.

"What's wrong?" Dan asked (which was a stupid question because they had somehow been teleported into the middle of a road in a place they didn't know and things really couldn't be more 'wrong').

Phil was staring upwards with a shaky finger pointing to whatever was in front of him, following his line of vision.

Turning to the side, Dan slowly looked up to see what was bothering his friend so much and, to his absolute shock, saw something that he thought he would never see.

"Is that..?" He choked in surprise, "Is that… DIL'S HOUSE?"

Phil didn't reply, he was too in amazement to even speak. He looked as if he was about to pass out and his usually pallid skin was even paler than usual.

But there, right in front of them, was the house of their Sims in all its glory, complete with llama hedge, towering owl slide, lawn flamingo and un-planted roses lining the path.

"Phil, this is impossible…" Dan breathed, "This doesn't just _happen_ … Phil? Are you OK, Phil?"

"I- I- D- Dan, I- I-" Phil stammered.

"Come on, Phil, spit it out."

Phil didn't go on – he still looked faint and he was shaking like a leaf.

Dan looked around and behind him he saw the familiar surroundings of Willow Creek: their Sims' neighbourhood. It was all there – the river where they met Tabitha, the Pancakes' house and, of course, Dil's eccentric house.

Suddenly; before Dan could say anything more to encourage his friend to express some sort of opinion; there came a deep, American voice from behind: Bob Pancakes – stood outside his front door, holding a mug of coffee and looking very tired.

"Good morning, fellows," he called across to Dan and Phil, "Are you alright there? Looking a bit lost, I see."

"No, no, we're fine!" Dan replied, laughing awkwardly, "Just… admiring the scenery!" Which wasn't _quite_ a lie.

Bob didn't seem convinced, but; after picking up the daily newspaper; he went back inside anyway.

"…Dan…" Phil breathed, eventually. It had taken him a full three minutes to calm down – and even now, his breath was staggered, "What's going on?"

"I don't know, Phil," Dan replied, calmly, putting a delicate hand on his shoulder, "But don't worry: we can figure something out, I'm sure."

Phil didn't seem to hear him. Maybe he did, but Dan couldn't tell because he still had his eyes glued to the house in front of them.

Crying was what Dan heard next: a baby's crying. It was coming from the house, so it was obviously Dil and Tabitha's (badly named) son.

"…Dab?" Dan murmured, "Phil, we have to move before anybody sees us; we're really near the living room window," and he stood up, his legs wobbly, "Need a hand?"

He got no response from his friend, so grabbed him by the arm and yanked him to his feet before pulling him behind the llama hedge.

"What do we do?" Phil half whispered and half hissed, his eyes wide and his skin even sallower than normal.

"For the last time, I have no idea," Dan replied in a hushed voice, "So just calm down and take the day as it comes, OK?"

From behind the hedge, Dan could see through the window and into the living room. He could see all the familiar items in that room that he recognised from playing the game: the dining table with the momentum conserver atop it, the glass door to the tiny swimming pool outside and Jonathan The Minnow swimming around gaily in his glass tank on the coffee table.

Dab's crying eased and now Dan could hear footsteps walking into the lounge: Dil and Tabitha.

"Quiet!" Dan hissed to Phil peering into the house to see Tabitha emerge from the baby room, carrying the child in her arms. She was saying goodbye, it seemed, to Dil as she headed out to work.

Dan pulled his friend down to the grass and clapped a hand over his mouth as their Sim left the house through the front door – still carrying her baby – and walked past the lawn flamingo and down the road.

"That was close…" Dan breathed when Tabitha was out of earshot, "You alright there, Phil? Looking a bit faint."

Phil Lester was not, in fact, 'all right there'. In fact, he looked as if he was going to have a panic attack. It was the first time he had seen one of his Sims in the flesh and he wasn't taking it too well.

"How- how is th- this supposed to h- happen?" he stammered, desperately, frantically, wringing his hands out like they were on fire, "This is impossible! THIS CAN'T ACTUALLY REALLY BE HAPPENING! We- we can't- and I- we don't- I just-"

"Phil, you're not making any sense."

"We have to do something – ANYTHING, Dan!"

Dan held on to his arm to restrain him.

"What do we- but there's-" Phil started again, but Dan cut him off,

"Phil, you need to _calm down_!" He snapped, "You're only making this harder for yourself."

"But, Dan, I-"

No; shush; just breathe, alright? In, out, in, out…"

Phil was about to retort with another distressed and worried altercation, but right then, he noticed somebody walking down the street, heading their direction, and he hurriedly composed himself so as to not look like a lunatic who had just escaped from a psychiatric hospital.

The 'someone' walking towards them was, in fact, Jade Hope: an old friend of Dil's who had very red high heels and a very well kept afro. Fortunately, she did not notice that Phil was sweating like he had just left a sauna and that Dan looked like he was attempting to detach his arm.

"Look, Phil," Dan hissed under his breath when Jade had passed, "There's literally nothing we can do until we know what got us here. Now, do you remember anything that we were doing ten minutes ago?"

Phil stared at him with his round not-quite-blue-but-not-quite-green eyes and slowly tilted his head to the side.

"Funnily enough," he replied, shakily, "No, I don't."

"Neither do I…" Dan said, letting go of his arm, "I suppose we've got temporary memory loss from the fall. So until we remember what we were doing before we ended up… here… we can't do anything to escape."

"No! No, no, no, no, no-"

"BUT! However! Seeing as we're here – no, don't look at me like that, Phil – I see this as an opportunity…"

"An opportunity to… what?"

"To introduce ourselves to our Sims, of course! Now come on; what are we waiting for?"


	2. Dil Howlter

"I'm not sure this is a good idea, Dan…" Phil whispered as they knocked on the door to Dil's house, waiting patiently for an answer.

"What are you talking about?" Dan retorted with a scoff, "It's just _Dil_ : it's not like he's going to murder us."

"I know, I know, it's just…" Phil sighed, but then composed himself as he heard footsteps from inside, "What do we say to him?" He hissed as he heard a key clicking in the lock.

He didn't get a reply: Dan only shrugged and cleared his throat as the door opened, slowly, creaking as it did.

"Hello?" Dil greeted them, looking a bit confused. He was a tiny bit shorter than both Dan and Phil, but apart from that, he did, in fact, look like a mix of the two of them: dark brown fringe hanging straight down – not to the left nor to the right – pale skin like Phil and slender neck like Dan. His eyes were a hazel-y green and he had one small blemish on his cheek. Even his voice was a mix: Dan's tone with Phil's mannerisms.

Strangely enough, he didn't look like an actual Sim: he looked like a real-life person. In fact, everything did. It was less like Dan and Phil had landed in a video game and more like they had just found themselves in a strange part of the Earth.

"Hey!" Dan smiled to his Sim, looking equally as nervous, "Uh, we're new around here. And, uh… we just thought we'd introduce ourselves. I'm Dan and this is Phil," he said, gesturing to his left to Phil, who gave an awkward grin.

"Nice to meet you!" Dil smiled back, shaking both of their hands, "I'm Dil. We don't get many 'new' people about here. Where are you living?"

"Oh we haven't bought a house-" Dan replied with a cough, hurriedly thinking of an answer that wasn't a lie.

"Yet," Phil chimed in.

"But we're thinking of doing!" Dan concluded.

"Oh, well, why don't you two come inside for a drink and a chat?" Dil asked, politely. It was always good to welcome new potential neighbours with open arms.

"We'd love to!" Dan agreed, "Wouldn't we, Phil?"

Phil nodded, even though he was still a bit shaky and didn't know whether he'd be able to keep down anything he drank.

The house was exactly like they saw it in the game – everything was there: the penguin TV, the pink-y purple-y drinks bar, the stereo that always seemed to be broken and; pride of place at the corner of the rug; the famous porcelain pig.

"Nice place you've got here," Dan observed with a smirk, admiring his own interior design skills.

"Thanks," Dil smiled, "We – that's me and my wife – have only just had it extended with the arrival of our first son. Actually, my wife's just left to go to work. It's a shame, really – I could've introduced you."

"Ah, it's OK," Dan replied, "I'm sure we'll be around again sometime."

"Yeah, I'm sure. Anyways, what do you guys want to drink? Tea, coffee?"

"Coffee, thanks," both Dan and Phil chorused in unison.

"So, thinking of buying a house, are you?" Dil continued as he filled up the coffee machine and quickly checked the clock.

"Yeah, thinking of it," Dan nodded, "Still haven't looked around completely yet."

He was good at this not quite lying business.

"Or introduced ourselves to everybody," Phil added.

"Heh. I'd stay clear of Erika Pendleton if I were you: she's inherently evil. Eliza Pancakes is a bit weird, too. She lives across the road and she's a huge stalker; hasn't left me alone since I met her."

Phil laughed. He'd finally relaxed a bit and was not quite enjoying listening about what his Sim thought of the people they'd met.

"So, uh," Dan started, trying to make conversation and trying not to look awkward, "What's your son's name?"

He then realised that that was a pretty bad conversation starter because it was a question that could be answered in one word and couldn't really be replied to and then he would be left in an awkward silence whist everyone sat around and waited for coffee.

"Dab," Dil replied, "It's a mix between mine and my wife's name: Tabitha."

The awkwardness intensified.

Everyone sat in silence and the only sound was the obnoxiously loud momentum conserver on the tabletop.

"Afraid you can't stay long," Dil said as he poured the coffee into two cups and handed them to his new friends, "It's my work day today and I have to set off in twenty minutes. Just enough time for a drink, though, right?"

"Yeah, thanks," Dan replied, glad that the silence was over. Hopefully somebody could think of a conversation topic before it made itself evident again...

* * *

He and Phil stayed for a full 15 minutes, making forced conversation with their Sim, before Dil had to go to work and they cleared out of the house.

When the clock turned 10AM, Dan and Phil were stood outside, on the road, under the shade of the palm tree, feeling a bit confused but very well informed.

It was certainly an… experience… to interact with their Sim, but now they had nothing to do.

"Well, where do we go?" Dan asked, looking around, his arms folded.

"The park?" Phil suggested.

"Why?"

"Fun."

"We're not looking to have fun here, Phil," Dan retorted, "We're looking to find out how on Earth we got here."  
"You can't just make that happen, though, can you? We have to do something to pass the time while we wait. Might as well take our minds off things. Exploring seems a good idea, don't you think?" Phil asked.

Dan sighed and begrudgingly agreed. He didn't really want to walk all the way to the park and sit outside in the freezing December cold, but he didn't really see a way he could argue.

And if it kept Phil happy, he supposed he'd just have to do whatever.


	3. Checkmate

Magnolia Blossom Park looked even nicer in real life than on a computer screen: the whole place was bright, airy and colourful. There were three lamp-posts surrounding a gravel path that circled a patch of grass where there stood in the middle, pride of place, a llama hedge.

Beyond that was a marble fountain, and past all of _that_ was a very posh building that was, in fact, just a public bathroom. Chess tables and Cherry blossom trees were scattered around the park, bringing a splash of colour to the very green grounds. But perhaps the best thing in the whole garden was the kid's jungle gym in the form of a pirate ship: just that one strange and wacky thing to remind you that this was the Sims and that everything here was just a tad weird.

The park was quiet on that day, so Dan Howell and Phil Lester could sit down at one of the chess tables and look as if they weren't lost as they talked between themselves about what on Earth they were supposed to do next.

"You said we were thinking of buying a house," Phil said eventually, after a while of silence, "What was that about?"

"I think you're right, Phil," Dan explained, "We ought to just make the most of being here while we can. If we can't remember what happened to us, we'll have no choice but to settle down, buy a house, get jobs and wait it out."

Phil didn't reply. He made very brief eye contact with his friend before looking back down to the chess board and eying the pieces, pretending to contemplate a move. They hadn't really started a game yet, just moved a few pawns forward whilst trying not to look lost.

"In that case," Phil replied, laying his thumb and finger on the top of his bishop and moving it diagonally to land on one of Dan's pieces, "I suppose we'd better forget about trying to remember and just take the day as it comes," and he took the pawn he landed on and put it to the side.

Dan nodded, though he was a bit surprised that this chess match seemed to be turning into an actual game,

"We've got plenty of stuff to do while we wait, though," he said, "Like introducing ourselves to everyone and making some new friends. We can explore the places we've seen, too," and he slid his rook forward to take Phil's bishop. He wasn't really thinking his moves through; he was focusing more on his conversation.

"Hanging out with Dil and Tabitha," Phil added, making his move.

"Precisely! Watching Dab grow up, too…" Dan nodded, taking his turn.

"Yelling at Erika…"

"Trying to ward away Eliza…"

"Making it up to Bob..."

"See? Doesn't sound so bad!"

"Sounds terrifying."

"Oh, come _on_ , Phiiiilll! It'll be fun, trust-"

"-Checkmate," Phil interrupted, looking up to Dan, straight-faced.

Dan frowned. Not because he'd lost the match, but rather because he was concerned about his friend.

"You're not usually like this," He said, quietly.

Phil just bit his lip and averted his eyes.

"Phil…" Dan sighed, laying his palm on Phil's cold hand, "What's gotten into you?"

Phil _still_ didn't reply; Dan felt him go limp as he wobbled a bit before blacking out and falling off his chair.

Thankfully, nobody was around to see.


	4. A Familiar Face

**A/N: Sorry this chapter's so short: I was kinda rushed and just wanted to get it uploaded... I promise something will happen in the next instalment - honest! Until then, enjoy! ~TheCatWhiskers**

* * *

Phil awoke to the sight of the clouded sky, the smell of flowers and the feeling of something brushing against his side. As he sat up, he saw that he was on a park bench, a bush to the side of him, poking through the bars of the wooden seat.

He realised that this was the very bench that he and Dan had first encountered Erika Pendleton on and stood up as quickly as possible.

When he stood, he was met by the sight of Dan a few metres in front of him, in front of the llama hedge, stroking it in a very strange way – clearly fascinated by the very essence of its being.

"…Dan..?" Phil started, still feeling a bit dizzy, leaning on the arm of the park bench.

Dan seemed to be a bit surprised by being addressed so suddenly.

"Oh, hello, Phil; thought you'd never wake up – you've been out ages," he grinned, awkwardly, "How are you feeling?"

"What happened?"

"You blacked out. I had to drag you over to the nearest bench… oh, yeah – that's, uh, why you have dirt on the backs on your legs," Dan explained, "Some woman walked past and gave me a few looks, like I was trying to hide a body or something. Strangely enough, she didn't come over and ask questions."

Phil gave a ginger grin back and started brushing off the backs of his jeans.

"I'm feeling OK," he said, eventually, "Even if a bit dazed still. So… what do we do now? I think I've calmed down a bit; all I really needed was a rest, I think…"

Dan laughed, awkwardly,

"Ah, I've been thinking about that," he replied, "And I'm not too sure _what_ we do… I mean, there's the spa, we could go and relax there, only that costs money and that's something we don't have right now."

"So all we can do is hang about? Great…"

"No, no, I'm sure we can find something. Hey, I don't know about you, but I'm _starving!_ How's about we go and find somewhere we can eat?"

"I thought you just said we didn't have any money," Phil frowned, "I'm not sure we can convince Chez Llama to give us a free meal. We can't go back to Dil's: he's at work."

Dan sighed,

"We're a little bit stuck, aren't we?"

"Yeah. _Really_ stuck. Not just a little bit – a lot a bit."  
"OK, no need to rub it in."

"Sorry," Phil smiled, putting his hands behind his back and idly kicking the ground with his shoe.

There was an awkward silence before either of them spoke up again and they were too engrained in their thoughts to even notice who was walking past them, eying them up, it seemed.

It was Dan who noticed first. When he saw her, his face fell and his jaw fell open. Swallowing, he flicked his eyes back and fourth from Phil, to the passer-by and then back to Phil again.

"I don't want to alarm you, Phil…" he stuttered, taking a few steps forward to whisper in his friend's ear, " _But it seems that… someone… would like to introduce themselves_ ," and he stood back to nod to his right.

Phil slowly turned his head to the side to see a familiar face.

Even though everyone in this 'world' were real people who didn't look like they were from a video game, the face of the bystander was instantly recognisable.

"Let's go, quick…" Phil hissed, under his breath, turning the other direction and speed walking away.

Dan followed suit, trying to look as if they _weren't_ trying to flee, but they couldn't get away – the onlooker called after them and their fate was sealed.

"You're new around here," their voice came from behind, "Aren't you? I don't think I've seen you before…"

"Oh, hi!" Dan laughed, uneasily, as he and Phil swivelled around on their heels, "Yeah, we're kind of… strangers… around here…"

"Let me introduce myself!" The cheery Sim beamed, grinning such a wide grin that it started to look considerably painful, "My name is Eliza! Eliza Pancakes…"


	5. An Awkward Encounter

"Nice to, uh… Nice to meet you, Eliza," Dan coughed, awkwardly wringing his hands, "I'm Dan-"

"-And I'm Phil," Phil interrupted, "We're new-ish here, I'm afraid we're in a bit of a rush right now, though, can't stay an chat – as much as we'd love to – we've got to, uh…"

"We've got to go and fin somewhere to eat," Dan finished, hurriedly. Then realised his terrible mistake.

"Well, you can come to my house for a meal!" Eliza offered with an ever-so-slightly-creepy smile, "It's always nice to welcome new neighbours, after all."

Neither Dan nor Phil spoke for a few seconds as they frantically tried to think of an excuse not to go. Eventually, Dan looked across to Phil with an expression that looked a bit unsure and a bit like he was asking for help – desperately.

"I… don't see why not…" he started, looking back to Eliza. Phil didn't interrupt, so either he agreed or he was unconscious again.

Thinking about it, it probably wouldn't be too bad. After all, it's a free meal, and Eliza never did anything to Dil, so where's the harm? Right?

"Well, then, that's great!" Eliza replied, grinning manically (for want of a better word), "Follow me, then, I live really close. Is there anything in particular you'd like?"

"Uh… I don't think so…" Phil stuttered, trying to think of something that couldn't be poisoned. He couldn't think of anything.

But he and Dan gingerly followed Eliza down the street, cautiously, hoping that nothing awful would happen. But being Dan and Phil, that was inevitable.

* * *

It didn't take long before Dan Howell and Phil Lester found themselves at Bob and Eliza's dining table, sat with their hands clenched together on their knees, feeling very out-of-place and slightly nervous.

Phil didn't know _why_ exactly he was worried: it's not like Eliza was like Erica and would murder them if she had the chance; she was just a bit creepy; but there was something about this human-like Eliza – perhaps it was the smile – that was just that little bit… off.

Sandwiches, Dan had decided, were the safest meal option, so he and Phil sat and waited, whispering to each other about how to escape the house once they'd eaten: excuses that they had to be somewhere, doing something with someone. Yet they couldn't think where, what or with whom.

Eliza emerged from the kitchen a few moments later, wearing a definitely creepy smile and carrying a platter with enough sandwiches to cure world hunger. She laid it down on the table and drew up a chair to sit opposite Dan and Phil.

Choking out a wary 'thanks', Dan reached out to take whatever happened to be closest to him on the plate and briefly inspected its contents before suspiciously taking a miniscule bite.

Surprisingly enough, it didn't taste like it was tainted with weird chemicals.

" _I'm not hungry anymore_ …" Phil whispered across to Dan. He meant it, too.

" _Just be polite and eat something, Phil_ ," Dan hissed back, hoping that their host wouldn't overhear.

Phil swallowed, stinging his throat, and begrudgingly attempted to eat something, even though his instincts were telling him otherwise.

"So what are you two doing around here?" Eliza asked, pleasantly yet still slightly scarily.

"My question exactly," Dan replied, quietly, just as Phil said,

"Just exploring, really."

This did not progress the conversation at all, so ensued an awkward silence.

"We can't stay long, I'm afraid," Dan said, suddenly, after a full 5 minutes of nobody speaking, "We've got houses to look at. Thinking of moving over this direction, you see."

"Oh, yes? Lovely!" Eliza chirped, a bit _too_ happily. She sounded very excited to have two new people to stalk.

"Yeah; we'll have to go in a few minutes-" Phil nodded.

"Well, you'd better clean yourselves up, then; you want to look nice for your house viewings, don't you?" Eliza declared, standing up at once with a Cheshire-cat-like grin and ushering Dan and Phil out of their chairs and up the stairs, "Especially you – Phil, wasn't it? – You look a bit rough," she continued, "Bathroom's just up the stairs and to the right."

She didn't really need to tell them where the bathroom was, because she escorted them there and shut the door behind them.

Both Howell and Lester were silent throughout this – they were too surprised to even spit out an objection – and now they stood on a cold tiled floor, wondering how on earth they got there.

It would have been OK, only; after Eliza closed the door; they heard a sliding metal sound from the other side.

"I don't want to alarm you, Phil," Dan breathed, keeping his calm, "But we do seem to be locked inside Eliza Pancakes' bathroom."


	6. Trapped

The lesson to be learned from the situation that Dan and Phil found themselves in was that you should always trust your instincts, because otherwise you could end up trapped in somebody's bathroom.

It's unlikely, but apparently it happens.

At least it was a nice bathroom, though: white wooden floors and three large windows on the wall, letting in plenty of light. To the right of the door, there were cabinets, a toilet and a sink, and straight on was a bath and a shower. But neither Dan nor Phil cared about how airy and light the room was because they were trapped in it and that was all that really mattered to them at the moment.

They both had two very different ways of dealing with this problem, and neither of them were very effective.

Dan's coping mechanism was to just sit in the middle of the floor and think – but he wasn't coming up with any ideas so far – and Phil's was to frantically walk around in circles, covering his mouth and nose with his hands and asking questions he knew Dan couldn't answer, such as: 'Why would Eliza want to lock us in a bathroom?', 'What do we do now?' and 'Why does she have a lock on the outside of the door?'.

Dan had learned not to answer because the answer was always 'I don't know'.

So that was what was happening at that moment.

"Do you think she's going to murder us?" Phil asked, his usually deep voice reaching an abnormally high pitch.

Dan sighed,

"No, I think she's going to keep us in here whilst she murders Bob, decide which one of us she likes best and then marry one of us because she's a crazy stalker and apparently likes guys with fringes," he replied, straight-faced.

That was when Phil shut up… for a few minutes, at least.

"We could climb out of the window," he suggested, eventually.

"What, and fall to our certain deaths?" Dan scoffed, "This house is taller than you think. I know we're tall, Phil, but we're not _that_ tall."

"But we-"

"-Phil, no-"

"-But-"

"-No."

There was silence.

If the house hadn't have been so tall, climbing out of a window might not have even been that bad of an idea, but the Pancakes' home was more-or-less a manor.

"I've got a better idea," Dan announced, out of the blue, standing up.

"What is it?" Phil urged, surprised, his eyes wide with anticipation.

Dan didn't answer him, just stepped over to the door and pressed one eye up to the abnormally large gap between it and the doorframe.

"If we find something really flat and long, I can probably push the lock open through the crack," he said, looking back to his friend.

"Like what?" Phil asked, "We're in a bathroom, Dan; there aren't many things we could poke through a door."

"Search the cabinets," Dan ordered, "I'm sure you can find something."

Phil would have complained about being ordered to look through Eliza's bathroom cabinets, but if it meant they might be able to get out of the chilly room, he was prepared to do anything.

When he opened the cupboard doors, many things fell out and onto the floor: bottles of bleach, rolls of loo paper, five of those weird shower scrubber things and two unopened boxes of bar soap.

Sighing, Phil put his hands on the floor and stuck his head in the cabinet to see if he could find anything that could possibly be poked through a door.

"I think it's a cabin hook lock," Dan carried on behind him. He had gone back to looking through the gap, "So I can probably flick it open…"

"I'm going to ask again," Phil mumbled, leaning further into the cupboard, "Why on earth is there a lock on the _outside_ of the door?"

"I bet she's been planning this for months," Dan replied.

"She was going to trap Dil in here, wasn't she -Ow!" Phil whimpered, recoiling as he leaned his palm on something sharp: one lonely hair slide, "Dan! Will this work?" He asked, suddenly realising that a hair slide could be very useful.

"What is it?"

"A hair slide."

"Could do; let me try it."

And he got up to proudly hand the slide to Dan, his hand still stinging.

Dan took the clip and poked it through the gap in the doorframe, twiddled it around a bit until he found the lock and flicked it upwards until he heard a metal clang as the hook swung un-done.

" _Yes_!" He grinned, doing a fist pump with his spare hand before throwing the hair slide on the floor and turning around to give Phil a high-five (which inevitably failed miserably).

"Now we just have to get out of the house and avoid Eliza," Phil pointed out.

"Yeah…" Dan hummed, pressing his ear against the door, "And that might be a bit tricky…"

He couldn't hear any footsteps approaching: clearly Eliza hadn't heard the door unlock. So Dan laid his hand on the handle and pushed it open to look around.

Nobody was around.

" _Come on, Phil_ ," Dan whispered, " _And be quiet_ …"

And they crept out of the bathroom and into the hallway.

" _Wait; I can hear them talking_ ," Phil hissed, holding Dan by the sleeve to stop him, " _How do we creep past them?_ "

" _Just walk really quietly,_ " Dan replied, shaking him off and carrying on down the steps.

So they tiptoed silently downstairs until they could see the front door and hear Bob and Eliza in the living room next to them.

" _Right,"_ Dan said, turning to his friend, " _On the count of three, we make a mad dash to the door, OK?"_

Phil nodded.

" _Three…"_ Dan started, " _Two… one… GO!"_

And they both darted forward, flinging open the door and sprinting outside, slamming it shut behind them as they ran as far away as their long, gangly legs could carry them.

Which, seeing as they hardly ever exercised, was only across the road, back to Dil's house and into the back garden…


	7. Making Plans

**A/N: Yeah, sorry nothing much happens in this chapter; I'm trying to build up to the next chapter, which might be quite long, so bear with. I hope you enjoy anyway, though! -T0CW**

* * *

"Urgh- Oh my goodness! That was _intense_ -" Dan gasped, laughing as he leaned back on the wall of his Sims' house, "You OK, Phil?" He asked, turning to his left.

"I'm… fine… just… a bit… out of breath," Phil wheezed, a hand on his chest, "Here… feel my heart…"

"You need to stop asking me to feel your heart," Dan sighed.

"No, no, feel," Phil insisted, taking Dan's hand and placing it over his heart, which was beating as fast as a hummingbird's (OK, not really, but it felt like it).

"OK, that's extremely fast, you may want to sit down for a minute there, mate," Dan observed, patting his friend on the shoulder and gently pushing him down to the ground.

"What do we do now?" Phil asked, catching his breath, "And where do we go?"

"I don't know," Dan replied, "It's up to you," and he sat down next to him under the shade of the overhang of the owl slide.

It was a nice evening today, as per usual, in Potters' Splay: the sun was shining down on the water of the pool in Dil's garden, the blue sky was almost cloudless and it seemed that a lot of neighbours had decided to take a stroll while it was bright. A casual walk and a chat seemed like an extremely good idea to Phil; and he was about to suggest it; but before he could open his mouth, he heard the front door slam shut and he almost jumped out of his skin,

"I think somebody's home," he breathed, standing up and leaning past Dan to peer through the glass in the door and into the house.

"Yeah, you don't say?" Dan scoffed.

"It's the whole family."

"Wow, full house, huh?"

"Yeah," Phil nodded, standing straight again so nobody would see him through the door, "So, what do we do? Introduce ourselves to Tabitha?"

"That might be a bit weird, seeing as they've literally only just come home – bit stalker-ish, don't you think?" Dan replied.

"Yeah, you're right. Well, in that case… why don't we just go for a walk around town? Nothing much else we can do, right?" Phil suggested.

"Walking, Phil? Really? That sounds like exercise, and you know what we think of exercise don't you?"

"But there's nothing else to _do!"_

Dan sighed and scratched the back of his neck; his friend _did_ have a point.

"Fine…" he agreed, eventually, "If it makes you happy."

Phil grinned and took Dan by the sleeve to drag him along, out of the way of any windows the Howlter family could see them through. They were just getting to the path when a cheery voice called out a greeting to them from behind.

"Good evening!" Whoever it was said.

Dan looked around to see Tabitha stood outside the front door, wearing a polite smile (unlike Eliza) and casually waving to them.

Tapping Phil on the shoulder to alert him, Dan gave a smile back and replied with a 'Hello, neighbour!'. It took all of his concentration not to say Tabitha.

"Are you Dan and Phil, by any chance?" Tabitha asked.

"Uh, yes, how did you know?" Phil answered, a tad confused.

"I'm Tabitha – my husband said you introduced yourselves earlier. He seems to think you'll make a nice edition to the neighbourhood. I'd invite you in for coffee but I've got to dash to get some groceries. Suppose I'll be seeing you around sometime, though?"

"You certainly will! See you later!" Phil replied, hurriedly, before walking away with his arm around Dan's shoulders. He just wanted to be away from any familiar Sims to take in what was happening at the moment, so speed walking to the nearest quiet place seemed a good idea.

"What's up?" Dan asked, slightly concerned at the speed walking.

"Nothing, nothing," Phil coughed, sweeping his arm away and sticking his hands in his pockets, "Just still a bit startled at seeing everyone in the flesh. It's a bit odd how real everyone looks, isn't it?"

"Yeah, I guess, but if you think about it logically, it kind of makes sense-"

"Oh, here we go again. You and your logical essay replies. Can't you just say 'yeah' or something?"

"No: this is who I am. Now as I was saying; if you think about it, our computer could never animate real people – no graphics card is that good – so they had to be cartoons. So when we fall into _their actual world_ , nothing is animated. Does that make sense?"

"Yeah, I guess," Phil replied, even though he didn't fully comprehend how a computer game could have a real world linked to it in the first place.

Never mind, though: he didn't want to think about it too much and get sucked into an existential crisis like Dan always did.

Sighing, he carried along down the path, his comrade beside him, walking to somewhere very, very far away. Where exactly was unclear, but it had to be far from Eliza.

Magnolia Promenade, Dan decided (without Phil's consent), was a fair place to hide out until they could find a job and salt away up enough money to buy an apartment or a hotel room or at least pay somebody to let them lodge in their home for a while. Hopefully they wouldn't be rapt in this universe for too long, though: Dan didn't now how much more of Phil's nerviness he could stomach.


	8. How About Dinner?

"What kind of job do you think would suit me?" Dan asked his friend as he leaned back on the park bench outside Paddywack's Emporium in the wonderful shopping square known as Magnolia Promenade, the sun setting behind them.

"I don't think there's a YouTuber career option, so I have no idea," Phil replied, putting his feet up on the seat and laying his chin on his knees, "Try and think of something that earns a lot and won't get you killed."

"Difficult," Dan hummed before yawning and huddling into a ball to conserve as much heat as humanly possible, "Sleep on it and we'll have a look around town tomorrow."

"Sleep on it?" Phil repeated, somewhat surprised, "We don't have anywhere _to_ sleep."

Dan turned to him and gritted his teeth a bit before sighing, quietly, and hanging his head,

"We have here," he said, eventually and quite sadly, before looking back up and seeing the expression of pure disappointment on Phil's face.

"I don't want to sleep on a bench like Erica," Phil complained.

"Well, tough – we don't have anywhere to go," Dan retorted.

"But…"

"No. I know it's hard to take in, but this is what we have to do. You can't stay awake forever, now settle down you whinger."

Phil didn't reply, just curled up and put his head on the arm of the bench.

"Am I being too much?" He asked, innocently.

"No, no," Dan replied, hoping that he hadn't offended his friend with his teasing (this was a bad time to tease), "It's OK, I'm not too happy about sleeping on a bench, either. Try to sleep and you'll forget all about it."

It was only 8PM, but both Dan and Phil were completely exhausted and sleep seemed like a very good idea, even if it _was_ on a bench.

"Goodnight, Dan," Phil said, after a while, taking his contact lenses out and putting them in his phone case to keep them safe before turning away and burying his face in his knees.

Dan smiled and gave a weak laugh,

"Night, Phil," he said, patting his shoulder and settling down for a cold and probably restless night's sleep…

* * *

The first thing that Dan saw when he woke up was the face of Phil Lester staring across at him whilst he frenetically shook his arm,

"Dan! Wake up!" He yelped, twitchily.

"What's wrong?" Dan asked, worriedly, sitting up suddenly, thinking that something awfully horrific was taking place.

" _You have to act natural, quick: Dil's here_!" Phil hissed, his eyes even wider than usual. It was strange for him to be this awake at this hour in the morning without his coffee.

Dan immediately sat up, adjusted his fringe, brushed himself down and quickly looked around to see if he could spy his Sim anywhere.

"Do you see him?" Phil asked as he jumped back onto the bench again and pulled his phone from his pocket to swipe through his images folder and type a load of gibberish into a note to look as if he was texting someone and hadn't, in fact, just woken up from a rough night's sleep on a park bench.

"I see him," Dan affirmed, looking across to him and chanting 'rhubarb' over and over again.

"Hey there!" Dil called over to them, waving and wearing an enthusiastic grin.

"Heyyyyyyyyyyy!" Dan laughed in reply, looking up and waving back. He was hoping that the Howlters would leave it as a hello and walk away, but unfortunately for him and Phil, Dil decided to come over and ensue a conversation.

"Isn't it weird how we keep running into you?" He laughed.

"Yeah, isn't it?" Phil grinned awkwardly.

"We just thought we'd come over to do some shopping seeing as it's my day off today," Dil put in, "What are you two up to?"

"Ah, nothing much," Dan answered, scratching the back of his neck, "Just hanging around, like you do."

"If you're not doing anything at twelve, you're welcome to come around for dinner," Dil offered, politely.

"Oh, thank you very much!"

"Yeah, we'd love to!" Phil nodded.

"Well, I'll be seeing you then!" Dil smiled, "Bye guys!" And he walked away with a slight spring in his step.

"Bye!" Dan and Phil chorused, vaguely surprised that their Sim said the exact same thing that they say at the end of their gaming videos, and in exactly the same way.

"Well…" Phil breathed, "That was awkward."

"It really was," Dan replied, hanging his head again, "But at least we'll have somewhere to eat later."

"I think it'd be a good idea to tell Dil the truth," Phil said

"You know," Dan started, "Usually I'd say that's a bad idea, but I think you have a point. We can't keep a secret forever: we do need help after all. Well… come on, Phil, let's go and pass the time before twelve…"

And they tiredly got up to amble their way back to Willow Creek; cold, hungry and still very tired.

* * *

When 12 o'clock finally rolled around, both Phil and Dan were both already ready in Magnolia Park, waiting patiently until they could walk down the street to Potters' Splay where hopefully Dil would be putting his cooking skills into action and preparing the best meal to ever grace this universe… or just fish tacos, neither of them would mind – they were both starving and the only thing they'd eaten since they'd been in this world was a single cucumber sandwich made by none other than Dil's crazy stalker.

"Should we start walking now?" Dan asked, checking the time on his phone screen as the sun shone down on the park bench.

"I guess so," Phil nodded, still vaguely shaken from their awkward encounter with their Sim, "What time is it?"

"Twelve exactly," Dan replied as he got up and gave Phil a hand to stand, too.

"Great timing! Let's go!"

And they both strolled to Dil and Tabitha's house, making sure to avoid being seen out of the window of the Pancake residence: the last thing they needed was a madcap Eliza rushing after them.

So under the shadow of the palm tree, stood next to the magnificent llama hedge, Phil Lester straightened his shirt collar as his friend knocked elegantly on the front door. It's always good to make a good first impression with a smart knock.

It only took a few seconds for Tabitha to answer them, swiftly opening the door with a wide grin,

"Hey, you two! Hope you're hungry; Dil's been planning all morning since he came home and said he bumped into you in town," she greeted them.

"Oh, we're _starving_!" Dan affirmed (and he wasn't joking, either).

"Well, come on inside and take a seat," Tabitha said, heading inside, Dan and Phil in tow, "I've got to go out and collect the child from nursery now, so I can't stay and chat, but I'll talk to you when I get back. See you later!" And she walked out the door.

"Bye, Tabitha!" Dan and Phil chorused, then called, "Hey, Dil!" seeing their Sim in the kitchen, frenetically chopping what appeared to be an assortment of vegetables.

Dil waved back to them, grinning ecstatically. He was clearly very keen to be cooking again.

Dan inevitably headed for the black chair at the table, whereas Phil took a seat opposite him on the blue, trying to act as casual as possible even though his heart felt like it was beating out of his ribcage, knowing it was finally time to tell the truth.

"So how are you doing?" Dil started, politely making conversation whilst the pleasant smell of blackened bass drifted from the oven.

"We're… fairly alright," Dan replied; telling him the honest answer; as he put his arm over the back of the chair to face him.

"Found a house yet?"

"Not yet," Phil sighed through his teeth. He wasn't too sure he wanted to find a house anymore; he just wanted to get out of here and go home to his comfy bed and eat dry cereal out of the box.

"Ah well," Dil smiled, putting the veg on a tray and sliding it into the oven, "You'll find one sometime. Anyway, seeing as you're here, shouldn't we take the time to get to know each-other?"

"Oh- yeah, I-… getting to know each-other, yeah," Dan stuttered, edgily. He didn't know quite how to get onto the subject of 'hey, we created you and we're kinda' homeless and stuck in your weird universe', but he supposed he'd just take it as it came, though he could visibly see Phil getting more stressed, "Let's start with you; how's your family? You all good? Your son OK?"

Dil seemed a little bit surprised at the sudden awkwardness (so much so that he dropped the salt shaker).

"Yeah: we're great," he said, brushing the salt calamity into his hand and carrying it to the bin, "Enjoying family life and all that, you know?"

Dan nodded with a ginger grin,

"Don't get much sleep, nowadays, then?" He replied.

Dil laughed,

"You got that right. He's a handful is Dab…" and he paused before adding. "I'm really still not sure why we decided to call him that… _I mean, why not something normal like 'Chad'?_ …"

"At least it'll stand out," Phil put in. He'd been quiet for a while now and had decided to vent his agitation by tapping his fingertips on the tabletop to the rhythm of _The Internet Is Here_.

Dan took a second to whisper ' _it's OK_ ,' to him and pat his hands before turning back round and racking his brains to think of another conversation starter. He was always really bad at thinking of conversation starters.

"So… know anyone who would possibly employ two really clumsy guys who hardly ever leave the house and have almost no skills in any department whatsoever?" He asked.

"Unfortunately, I can't say I do. Then again, _I'm_ pretty clumsy and _I_ have a job…" Dil answered.

"Wouldn't have thought scientist and clumsy would be a good mix, would you?" Dan laughed.

"Yeah, I- Wait… how did you know I was a scientist? I never remember telling you that…"

This was when a very intense silence set in.

Dan choked up on his words as he tried to desperately think of something to say. He heard his friend's frantic finger tapping get faster and his breathing get more rapid, too.

He breathed a sigh of defeat, flashed a quick warning glance to Phil and cleared his throat,

"I think it's time we told you something…"


	9. The Truth

"You're WHAT?" Dil choked, jumping back in surprise.

Dan winced at the volume of his voice and heard Phil's finger-tapping stop, suddenly.

Maybe this was a mistake.

Dan had just finished telling Dil where they were from. It had been difficult enough to get the words out and it didn't seem that Dil was taking it all so well.

"From a different universe," Dan repeated, "We created you, named you, built this house…"

"That's impossible!" Dil retorted, "You're completely mad!"

"No, you have to trust us, Dil!" Phil insisted, speaking up at last, "We really need your help! We're stuck, confused, hungry and homeless – we're desperate for a place to stay, even if just for the night – if you could-"

"You two are out of your minds!" Dil yelped, "I'm calling the police!" And he got out his phone from his pocket.

"No, honestly, listen to us; we're completely sane!" Dan begged, standing up and knocking his chair over.

Dil didn't reply, just grabbed both Dan and Phil by the sleeves and dragged them out the door before slamming it in their faces and returning to the phone.

Dan had, frankly, expected this to go a bit better than it did. He composed himself, straightened his sleeves and turned to his friend,

"You alright, Phil?" He asked.

Phil nodded and cleared his throat,

"I messed up, didn't I? I messed up bad…" he sighed.

"No, it's fine," Dan replied, "We can still get to him, I'm sure… Think of something to persuade him to hear us out."

Phil sighed and ran a hand through his fringe before knocking on the door with his knuckle and very calmly calling,

"Dil, please: I don't want to spend another night sleeping on a bench like Erica Pendleton was when you first ran into her. Come on, we're begging you; we're not mad, I swear."

This was when Dil stopped his 999 call (or whatever the number was in the Sims universe) and Dan and Phil could hear him walking over to the door again.

"You know how I met Erica?" He asked, surprised, through the wood.

"On a bench in Magnolia Park – you invited her round and she started complaining about you leaving books on the floor and then she wouldn't eat the cake you made for her," Phil replied, quickly and straight-faced, his breath still slightly staggered. He was nervous, Dan could tell, but he knew he had to do whatever he could to get their Sims to listen.

"I can prove we're not lying," Phil carried on, "Not only do I know where you work and how you met your arch enemy, I also know the name of your two pet fish, how you met Tabitha and what exactly has happened in your life – from start to finish – since you moved into this neighbourhood. I know it might sound a little bit crazy, but that's life, isn't it?"

There was silence from the other side of the door for a few seconds – clearly Dil was in deep thought.

After a while, he answered with,

"Answer one question and then you can come back in and prove you're who you claim to be."

"Fire away," Phil replied, listening closely for the question to follow. He was nervous, to say the least. What if it really was something he couldn't answer? He glanced to Dan for a split second then looked back to the door again,

"What is the name…" Dil began, "…Of the canvas on the wall in my bedroom?"

Phil grinned – this was an _easy_ question.

"Melapples," he said, "I gave you the inspiration for that name, by the way. Come on, give me something more challenging!"

"How about who I went camping with last year?"

"Bob and Eliza Pancakes. Bob played horseshoes the whole night and then you went around dressed as a panda, roaring at everybody."

"The name of the caterer I employed for my first party and what she made?"

"Mia Yang – she made a Caprese salad and then didn't make anything for any other party you invited her to," Phil shot back, "Have I proved myself yet?"

There was another silence before Phil and Dan both heard a lock click from the other side and the door slowly opened.

Dil stood there, looking very shell-shocked indeed, probably re-evaluating his life.

"I didn't know it was possible," he muttered eventually, "To have two creators living in an alternate universe, micro-managing my whole existence…"

"It sounds outrageous, trust us, we know," Dan nodded, "And we understand it's come as a bit of a shock to you, but we really need you to help us. After all we've done for you – getting you and Tabitha together, making sure you're well cared-for, designing your house to make room for all your needs – couldn't you give us a place to stay? Even if it's for one night only."

"Well, I suppose…" Dil sighed, "…It's the least I could do. Come inside, then, guys, and make yourselves at home. Everything that's mine is yours."

* * *

The tension between everyone soon died down as Dil, Dan and Phil all managed to soften the subject a bit: the more they talked, the more Dil realised how like his creators he was.

Phil had calmed down, too, and had even been able to get a few laughs out of everybody – no more tense finger-drumming and fidgety stuttering.

Peace had finally been made and everyone seemed to be actually enjoying themselves and their conversation, which had mostly centred on quaint times they had shared (even if it be unknowingly), such as the awkwardness of the many failed house parties, the camping trip, the fight at the museum, the wedding…

They'd eaten dinner, too, and immensely enjoyed it, sat around the table, chatting away.

They seemed to be enjoying themselves so much so that they didn't notice it was getting dark outside.

It was only at about 7PM when they realised what time it was. Tabitha, who had been out to collect her child from nursery for all this time, came through the door then, child in tow, and walked straight to Dab's bedroom without a word. Dan and Phil didn't make eye contact with the toddler, just carried on talking to Dil. They didn't want to scare the kid, after all.

"I'll go and say hello to Dab, then. While I'm at it, I'll find some blankets for you: it's going to be a cold night tonight, the weather man said," Dil added, "Feel free to get yourselves anything you like from the kitchen if you get hungry," and he disappeared into his and Tabitha's bedroom, where they obviously kept the blankets.

"So… first night in Dil's house," Dan smiled to Phil as he tapped his hands on the tabletop, "How do you feel?"

"I feel fine," Phil replied with a grin, "I'm getting to quite enjoy our little adventure. Something tells me this is going to be fun…"

"You might be right," Dan agreed, "I mean, what could be more fun than the Sims universe? You don't get llama hedges and burger cakes in real life."

This was when Tabitha called them from the next room.

"Come and meet Dab!" She urged, poking her head around the doorway to face them.

Dan and Phil didn't need asking twice, they quickly scrambled to their feet and bounded to the child's room, clearly very enthused about meeting the newest addition to the Howlter family.

Toddler Dab was a strangely cute toddler, to say he had the most bizzare haircut Dan and Phil had ever seen. He was currently sitting up on his bed, looking up to his mother in a slightly confused manner.

"Dab, these are our new friends!" Tabitha smiled to her son.

Dab gazed up to Dan, who must have looked like a giant from his perspective, and as he did, Dan got his first real look of real-life Dab.

Big, innocent, blue eyes on a round, smooth face. The hair was... Something else. Yet, somehow, it kind of added to the cuteness. He was certainly quite cute, but what could you expect from the produc of something created by a mix Dan and Phil?

Dab got up off the bed and wobbled over to Dan, who kneeled down to get on his level. The child stumbled into him and Dan couldn't help but smile.

" _Hello!"_ He whispered in his softest voice. He almost felt like crying it was so adorable.

He looked to Phil, who joined him on the floor.

Dab seemed a bit wary at first (but then, that's how children always were with Phil) but soon got used to him and eventually waddled forward to give him a hug, too. In fact, he seemed to like Phil more than Dan, in the end.

" _Aww! Hi! Aren't you sweet?"_ Phil breathed to Dab, who seemed to instantly start to fall asleep in his warm arms. He seemed to have a way with the toddler, which was slightly abnormal.

It was somewhat magical to finally see in flesh what had been on their computer screens for so long, but when Dab let go and had learned Dan and Phil's names, they soon had to end their day.

Both Phil and Dan – completely mesmerized by it all – sleepily stumbled back into the living room to at long last get some proper sleep. Hopefully.


	10. Morning Tea

**A/N: So Dan and Phil uploaded half way through writing this and they just so happened to age Dab up into a toddler, so I had to re-write the last half of Chapter 9 to make it relevant. You might want to go back and read that before this one, just to refresh your memory. Hope you're all enjoying the story, by the way! It took me a while to write this chapter because I had no idea where I was going, but be assured that Chapter 11 won't be far away. In other news, I started a forum (link to it in my profile) so if you want to chat about the story (or just Dan and Phil in general) be sure to pop by and say hello. Until next time, Ciao!**

* * *

One of the worst and strangest feelings in the world is the feeling of being tired – exhausted even – but not being able to fall asleep. This feeling is commonly known as insomnia.

Both Dan and Phil were experiencing this right now: they were tired, deadbeat, but however hard they tried, there was nothing they could do to shut their minds off.

There was something about finally being warm and safe in a place they never thought they'd see in their lives. It was too surreal and dream-like, as though if they fell asleep now, they'd wake up back in their apartment and their adventure would be over. And even though they really, _really_ wanted to go home, there was still so much of the Sims universe to explore – and they'd _only just_ made friends with Dil and Tabitha, too – and so many more people to meet.

So now they lay – Dan huddled up on the soft rug, half buried in cushions, the warmest eiderdown in the world covering him whilst Phil was curled up on the sofa with a pillow and a relatively thin blanket (they had both agreed this was a good arrangement, as, as Dan had said, Phil just _really_ needed to calm down, and Dan liked camping, so being on the floor didn't really bother him) – and they tried to fall asleep.

The emphasis here falls on the word 'tried'.

It was currently twelve in the morning, pitch black and so silent that you could hear a pin drop.

It was quite magical, actually; so different to sleeping at home with noisy traffic outside and bright lights flashing through the curtains. But maybe being away from that familiar environment was what made it so hard to sleep, or maybe it was the fact that they were sleeping in their clothes instead of cuddly fleece pyjamas. But the sleeplessness also acted as a good time to think: reflecting on the day behind them. They'd made a few mistakes, of that they were aware, but they'd also made two new friends, and that was what mattered in the end, whether they were stuck or not.

"Dan…" Phil whispered, eventually, turning his head to his left where he would have been able to see his friend had it not have been so dark and had a coffee table not been in the way.

"Yes, Phil?" Dan replied, sleepily, sounding only half conscious.

"Do you think we'll ever remember what happened?" Phil asked as he rolled over.

"Of course we will," Dan nodded, deciding to be positive for once – for Phil's sake – and smiling, comfortingly, even though Phil couldn't even see his face, "Then we'll figure out a way to get out and we'll go home. Trust me."

"If you say so," Phil sighed before yawning. As much as he loved this world with all its eccentricities, there was still a part of him that needed to feel secure again. He always felt safe until everything he knew was ripped away from him and he ended up on a road in the middle of nowhere, but at least he had his best friend there to comfort him: he didn't know what he would do if he didn't.

"Dan," Phil started again, "Uh… thank you, by the way. You know, for not getting mad at me. I really appreciate it…"

But he got no response.

"…Dan?.." he repeated, confused, "...Oh, you're asleep… OK… well, goodnight…" he mumbled, pulling the sheet around his shoulders again.

And just that flimsy sheet makes it just the right temperature, and that was all he needed to fall into a deep sleep.

* * *

Morning broke with birdsong, the first rays of dawn shining through the window and into the lounge, reflecting from the fish bowl and onto the settee.

Phil could only just sense the daylight as he had covered his whole head with the sheet and the light was only just able to shine through. He awoke slowly, stirring slightly before flickering his eyes open and immediately becoming very confused as to where he was.

He fuzzily pushed the white sheet off his face and saw the sights of the living room, the dust particles in the air showing up and floating about in the sunlight flooding through the window.

Giving a quiet yawn, he sat up, leaning on his shoulders, his vision still blurry. He soon saw that he was the only one awake.

Stumbling to his feet, he got up and gently padded to the bathroom to find his contact lenses so he could actually see.

It was strange waking up in somebody else's house, being the only one awake and everything being silent: it was rather unreal, in fact. Almost like he shouldn't be awake at this time without permission.

The cold tiles under his feet, Phil staggered over to the sink where he was 90% sure he'd left a box containing his contacts.

He found it, sure enough, and somehow managed to put them in his eyes even though he couldn't really see anything.

Looking up, he inspected himself in the mirror and saw his messed up hair (that had once again flicked upwards into a quiff) and the dreary look in his eyes.

" _I'm a mess_ ," he sighed, running the cold tap until the sink was filled and subsequently sticking his face in it to wake him up.

He was usually OK with mornings, but he hadn't had much sleep that night. To be more specific, he'd had less sleep than usual, because it was currently seven o'clock and that wasn't usually his waking time. Nor was it Dan's, evidently.

Phil dried his face with the towel on the rail (that he really hoped hadn't been used before), brushed out his fringe, yawned, stretched and stuck his hands in his back pockets as he made his way back into the lounge.

As he got through the door, he cast a glance down to see Dan fast asleep, curled up into a ball, looking cosy as could be, the most peaceful of expressions upon his face.

Phil smiled at him for a moment before re-directing to the kitchen and opening the overhead cupboard doors as softly as he could as he searched about for wherever the coffee was kept, yet there was none to be found. This was due to the lack of a coffee machine: it was actually a tea maker.

Looks like he wouldn't be having his coffee this morning. Tea it would have to be. So he grabbed some random tealeaves, put them in the machine and turned it on.

Why couldn't they just have a kettle?

The tea maker inevitably started creating noise as soon as it was turned on and this unsurprisingly woke Dan Howell, who had been rather enjoying his sleep.

Phil felt a bit guilty about that, but tea was more important than a lie-in.

"Good morning!" He smiled, wanly, resting his arms on the kitchen counter.

"Good morning…" Dan yawned back, snuggling back down into his blanket cave of warmth, "Are you making coffee?"

"Tea, I'm afraid," Phil replied, drumming his fingers on the countertop, "Didn't have any coffee. Did you sleep alright?"

"Strangely enough, better than normal," Dan said, rubbing his eyes and covering his mouth with his duvet. He didn't want to get up: he was so comfortable, "Guess I was tired. How long have you been up?"

"Not long. Twenty minutes? Everyone else is asleep – even Dab – I was just waiting for you, really. Tea?" Phil offered.

"Sure, thanks," Dan nodded, sitting up, "Will you be alright without caffeine? Try not to fall asleep on me, won't you?"

Phil laughed, taking two cups from the cupboard and setting them down.

"I'll try," he smiled as the water finished boiling and he could pour the tea into them. He'd never really been a tea person, but today he'd have to make an exception. Maybe he could find a café or something later and have a coffee there, instead.

"Here you go," he breathed, walking over into the living room to hand Dan his cup.

"Thanks," Dan smiled, gratefully, taking it, "How are you feeling this morning?"

"I'm OK," Phil replied, running his fingers through his fringe and trying to give it some volume, "Feels like a lazy morning today," he continued, making his way drearily back to the kitchen to get his own tea because it was best to only carry one cup at a time when you were this tired.

"What are we supposed to do now?" He asked when he came back to sit at Dan's feet, on top of a cushion.

"Enjoy ourselves!" Dan answered, simply, "We're in a _game_ , Phil: make the most out of it! We probably won't be able to come back once we've gone. What other chance will we get to throw a house party with everyone we've ever met in-game?"

For once, Phil grinned back,

"You're right," he nodded, "It'll be fun once we get into it… won't it?"

"Yeah! Anywhere you fancy going out today?"

"I can't think of anywhere: I don't have the energy," Phil said, staring down into his cup, the steam from the tea drifting up and warming his face, "We could all go out somewhere – us and the Howlters – like a day trip, you know?"

"We'll have to suggest it. Don't know many places to go, like, but I'm sure we'll think of something," Dan agreed.

Phil grinned and looked across to him,

"Thanks, by the way," he said, "For not getting mad at me. I can be a bit much sometimes, I know, but you didn't yell and I appreciate it."

"Aw, that's OK: I wouldn't yell," Dan replied, "Not at my best friend; don't worry. Now drink your tea, it's gonna' go cold."


	11. Namen Hier Eingeben

**A/N: So, sorry nothing exciting happens in this chapter, I just wanted to get it up. I didn't expect this one to go on for so long. I also kinda like just writing stuff where they just hang about, but I really promise, like actually promise, that I will do something in the next chapter. I have something planned already...  
**

* * *

It was eight o'clock when the rest of the household started to wake. Dab was the first, of course. He came stumbling into the living room, rubbing sleep out of his eyes and giving a little yawn.

When he had opened his eyes again and seen Phil and Dan sat in the middle of the room, he perked up and immediately ran forward to them.

It was strange how quickly he'd warmed to them, seeing as he'd only met them the night before, but maybe it was how much they both looked like his father that made them so affable, or maybe Dab could feel that they were more-or-less family.

"Hello there!" Dan smiled as the child walked into him, almost causing him to spill burning hot tea all over himself.

"An!" Dab babbled (this was the only way he could say Dan's name. Phil's name had to be turned into 'Fiw', too, but maybe that just added to the cuteness).

"Hey, kid!" Phil grinned, ruffling Dab's hair. Dab toddled over to him and fell into his lap to hug him with his tiny little arms.

Kids always had a lot of energy in the mornings, and would usually spend it trying to get their parents out of bed, but it seemed that Dab was more interested in his two lodgers than in waking Dil and Tabitha.

Neither Dan nor Phil knew quite what to do with this small human, though, except talk to it and pat it on the head, so maybe it was best to leave the childcare to the parents.

It seemed that their talking woke Tabitha, who wandered, drearily, into the room a few moments later.

"Oh, good morning!" She smiled to Dan and Phil when she saw them. Her mouth smiled, but her eyes didn't: she seemed a tad… cautious, "Did you sleep alright?" She continued.

"Yes, thanks, Tabitha," Dan nodded with an awkward grin. He could tell something was up, too.

"That's good," Tabitha replied, "I see Dab's already woken up to pester you."

"Ah, it's alright!" Dan laughed, "We don't mind: your kid's adorable!"

Tabitha still didn't seem wholly happy, even though she smiled,

"Come on, Dab – time for breakfast," she sighed, and her child left Phil to run to her. She turned to Phil for a minute before looking back to the kitchen cabinets to get a box of cereal, "Dil told me what you said," she sighed, eventually, "Is it true?"

"It's true," Dan confirmed, frowning, "I know it's a bit of a surprise and it seems unbelievable, butt you have to trust us because we need your help."

"Of course I trust you: a lot of wild and crazy things have happened to me, and this is only one of them."

"Like being abducted by aliens?" Dan asked, giving a hollow laugh.

"Yeah, like that," Tabitha smiled, pouring the cereal into a bowl and fetching the milk from the fridge, "But anyway, I don't know how long you're going to need to stay here, but as long as you do, feel free to make yourselves at home. If you got me and Dil together and brought us all this joy, this is the least we could do to pay you back."

"Thanks!" Dan grinned, mirthfully, "We want to make the most out of being here, so while we can, we thought we could all go out somewhere today, you know? You never know, tomorrow we might get our only chance to go home and then our whole time here would be wasted."

"You're right," Tabitha agreed, placing the bowl softly on the table and handing her son a spoon.

Dab seemed to have been watching this conversation with much interest, but he probably didn't even know what half the words said meant, he was just happy to get to eat his cheeri… o… shaped things.

"Where were you thinking?" Tabitha asked, clearly quite keen on the idea of a day out with two new friends.

"We don't really know – it's up to you – I guess we can all have a chat about it later."

"Sounds good! In the meantime, I suppose you two will want to change your clothes? After all, you've slept in them, too. I'm sure Dil has a load of clothes you could borrow, you'll have to ask him-"

This was aptly timed with the moment when Dil just so happened to walk into the room, looking very tired and a bit confused as to why his child hadn't woken him up an hour ago like he usually would.

"Oh, good morning, guys!" He called, cheerily, as he saw that Tabitha, Dan and Phil had been entertaining Dab the whole time and letting him sleep.

"Hi, Dil!" Phil and Dan chorused, giving him a little wave with their non-tea-holding hands.

"How are you two this morning?"

"We're good, thanks, mate!" Phil smiled, speaking up at last.

"And how's my little son doing?" Dil continued, patting Dab on the head and ruffling his hair.

Dab didn't answer because he did not yet understand how to say 'very well, thanks, dad', but he made a happy little sound that was vaguely akin to the word 'dada'.

"How long have you all been awake, then?" Dil asked, facing Dan and Phil but addressing everyone in the room.

"Not long. Half an hour?" Phil replied. It was probably longer than that, but oh well, "We were thinking we could all go out today – Chez Llama or something – don't know if you have any ideas?"

"Chez Llama sounds great! We could go tonight for dinner. Don't know what you want to do in the meantime," Dil said, turning on the tea maker.

"Well, seeing as we're a bit stuck, we don't mind going out and doing chores and stuff," Dan hummed. He didn't get Phil's opinion on this, but it was reasonable to assume that he wouldn't have a problem with it.

"Oh, we couldn't make you do chores!" Tabitha objected, "You poor things are stuck down here away from home, it wouldn't be right to get you to do stuff for _us_!"

"No, it's fine, it really is!" Phil insisted, "You're letting us stay in your house, after all – not to mention eating your food and all that – and it's not like we have anything better to do. We'd _love_ to help!"

"Well, if you insist…" Dil replied, sheepishly, "I mean, we could do with some more food if we're going to have two extra people in the house. If you really wanted to, you could go out to the shops and get some stuff…"

"That'd be great," Dan nodded, "It'll stop us getting bored, at least! Give us a list and some money and we'll do what we can."

Both he and Phil were very enthused by the idea – mainly because they were bored out of their minds, partly because they wanted to show that they were grateful, and maybe a bit because they fancied exploring a bit more of the world. Dil and Tabitha agreed to this idea; maybe they wanted some time alone, too, to reflect on the situation. Bizarre things had happened before, as Tabitha had mentioned, but nothing quite _this_ uncanny: nothing that really made them re-evaluate their lives. They'd certainly remember this for a long time afterwards.

Little Dab, of course, had no idea what was going on, but he seemed to like Dan and Phil very much. A bit too much, maybe, seeing as he'd only just met them. And Dan and Phil liked Dab, too – who was even cuter than on a screen – and would certainly do all they could for this child whilst they were stuck here.

So after they'd sorted out their plans for the day and Dil had let them borrow some of his clothes, they wandered into the bedroom to find something to wear.

"Don't suppose you've found any plaid shirts yet?" Dan asked, his voice muffled from his upper half being totally submerged in clothes. He knew how much Phil liked plaid shirts.

"Unfortunately, I haven't, no…" Phil replied. He also had his head stuck in the wardrobe and was searching for something like what he would actually wear. He wasn't getting very far, "Oh! Wait! Yeah, I found one!"

Dan didn't remember Dil actually owning a plaid shirt, but seeing as he was part Phil, it didn't surprise him.

"Found anything, Dan?" Phil asked, pulling out the shirt along with a black t-shirt to go under it because it was as cold as a December night outside and he needed all the warmth he could get.

"Eh… not really," Dan replied with a sigh.

"Ooh! Let me pick something out for you!" Phil chirped, enthusiastically.

Dan would usually bluntly refuse this proposition, but if it kept Phil happy, he supposed he'd have to make an exception.

"Fine…" he muttered, "I'll be in the bathroom waiting, you can come and chuck some clothes at me or something," and he stepped out the door, leaving Phil to completely his own devices, and walked into the bathroom to try and find a toothbrush that hadn't yet been used.

He only found one.

Well, someone's going to have to not brush his teeth today, and it wasn't Dan.

So he opened the toothbrush packet, found the toothpaste and turned on the tap.

He managed to scratch his gums twice in the process of brushing his teeth because the bristles were so stiff, and Phil just so happened to walk in as he'd begun to stick pieces of loo roll in his mouth to try and stop the bleeding.

"Dan, I got- what on Earth are you doing?" Phil asked, confused, standing very still, a pile of clothes in his arms.

Dan couldn't really answer him, as he _did_ have tissue in his mouth, but he made a few gestures and that seemed to do the trick.

"Right… I'll just put these here, then," Phil coughed, slowly putting the clothes on the floor and backing out of the door, closing it behind him.

Dan blinked once, shrugged and started to get dressed. Hopefully Phil hadn't picked out anything absolutely ridiculous for him.

* * *

"Hey! Phil?" Dan called, knocking gently on the bedroom door, "Can I come in?"

"Sure!" Phil replied from the other side, cheerily.

Dan pushed open the door and walked in to find his friend subtly adjusting the collar of his shirt in the mirror, a look of concentration on his face. Collar adjusting takes a lot of focus.

"How do I look?" Dan asked, brushing himself down.

Phil looked to him and grinned,

"I should pick all your outfits," he said, which didn't directly answer Dan's question.

Dan wandered over to the mirror to check himself out.

"I actually look pretty good…" he noted, sounding quite impressed.

"What can I say?" Phil laughed, stuffing his hands in his back pockets. He'd chosen a plain white shirt with shoulder straps and shiny silver-y buttons. It wasn't much, but it very much suited Dan, especially with black jeans.

"Are we ready, then?" Dan asked, then added, "You can't brush your teeth, by the way, I used the last clean toothbrush: it's mine now, I've claimed it."

Phil sighed,

"Right. Remind me to add toothbrushes to the list. And yeah, we're pretty much ready. Shall we go?"

"We shall," Dan laughed as they headed back into the living room to get the list that Dil had made.

They left a while after, in quite high spirits. Even though going out to the shop wasn't much, they needed some space and exploring seemed a fun idea.

Or rather, they _thought_ it wasn't much, but they were about to have the most stressful food-shopping trip in history.

* * *

 **A/N: No, they never finished their tea, it went cold. And yes, the German in the title does translate to 'Enter Name Here'. I ran out of ideas.**


	12. Pendleton

It was 10 o'clock when Dan and Phil finally got to the supermarket. They'd had to walk the whole way there, and it wasn't even in Willow Creek: it was the next town over.

It was a fairly large shop and when they walked through the doors, a cheery looking lady offering them free samples of a new brand of cheese had greeted them.

They didn't take any.

Now, down the bread aisle, metal basket resting in the nook of his arm, Dan looked down to check his list. He'd abandoned Phil to go and find some lactose free milk and was quite enjoying his peace and quiet. Phil hadn't seemed to have stopped fidgeting since they'd arrived in this world and he didn't know how much more nerviness he could bear.

"Dan! Dan!" The voice of his friend came from a way in front of him.

"What is it?" Dan sighed, still staring down at the piece of paper in his hand.

"Can we get a houseplant, Dan?"

Dan turned to his left, facing away from the shelves in front of him, to look at his friend with a blank expression,

"That's not on the list, Phil," he said.

"But-" Phil started, "You sold the houseplant I got for Dil's house."

"I don't remember that," Dan replied, dryly, closing his eyes and turning away.

"You sold it to get money to buy decorations," Phil insisted.

"When was this?"

"2015."

"Wellll…"

"Please, Dan?"

"Didn't I send you out to get milk?" Dan asked, flatly.

"They didn't have any without lactose," Phil replied. "Looks like you won't be eating any cereal then…"

"Well, we don't have any cereal anyway; Tabitha finished it off this morning," Phil frowned.

"You can go and find the cereal, then!" Dan smiled.

"Okkkaaay…" Phil mumbled, buttoning up his shirt and walking away. He had no idea where he'd find cereal in such a huge place – it was certainly bigger than ASDA – but he'd definitely try.

This was when he felt a funny feeling in the air, like something was just a bit off, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. Yet that wouldn't last long: rounding the corner was when he heard clicking footsteps behind him.

Scratching the back of his neck and turning around, Phil gazed down the length of the shop and saw the fringes of yellow fabric as somebody turned down an aisle a way away from him.

Usually, he'd just brush this off, but his heart skipped a beat when he saw it and something inside was telling him to follow.

So, quietly, trying not to be seen by Dan, he strolled forward to follow whomever he had seen.

It seemed, as he peered around the corner, his back against the end of the aisle, that the person in question was a woman.

As he looked further, Phil saw that said person had their hair tied up in a ponytail and that the fabric was a dress.

His heart sank.

It was none other than Erica Pendleton.

Phil recoiled in slight disgust. Of course he was bound to run into Erica on the day when he just wanted some peace and quiet.

 _'Oh well,'_ he thought at first, _'I'll just avoid her,'_ but that was before he realised that miss Pendleton was stood in the middle of aisle 9.

And aisle 9 just so happened to be the cereal aisle.

Giving an audible sigh, Phil stuffed his hands in his pockets and strolled down the aisle, trying his best not to make eye contact with Dil's worst enemy.

He knew which exact cereal was on the list, too, and Erica was stood right in front of it, but he wasn't about to go and find some other cereal just to avoid Erica – oh no, of course not – this was a mission: a mission to find the honey Cheerios.

Still not maintaining eye contact, Phil picked up two boxes of whatever cereal happened to be in front of him and pretended to inspect the nutrition information whilst he waited for Erica to move. He was stood right next to her and he really didn't want to ask her to move so he just stood awkwardly staring at the carbohydrate contents in Shredded Wheat.

Just as it looked as if Erica was finally moving away, she had the misfortune of bumping into Phil's arm and jumping him in such a way that he dropped the box of Shredded Wheat, catching it and dropping it again like a bar of soap. Or a hot crumpet.

"Sorry!" Phil coughed, awkwardly, a slightly scared and apologetic smile on his face. It wasn't his fault, but being the overly polite Englishman that he was, he instinctively apologised anyway.

"You should watch where you stand!" Erica retorted, huffily.

"Sorry!" Phil repeated again, swallowing nervously. Many things were racing through his mind right then as he was confronted with Erica's menacing eyes and disapproving frown. One such thought was how he realised that he was about a foot taller than Erica and she could hardly do anything to him, but he was nervous anyway because he's Phil and this is what he does.

"You better be – move out of the way next time," Erica rejoined, turning away and marching off.

Phil shakily replaced the Shredded Wheat, took a box of honey Cheerios and made his way back to Dan.

"Daaaannnn!" He bleated, tapping him on the shoulder, "I got your cereal."

Dan turned to look at him,

"Thanks, pal. Hey, are you all right there, Phil? You look like you've seen a ghost," he asked, looking quite concerned.

"Worse…" Phil swallowed, gently placing the cereal box into the basket, "I bumped into Erica Pendleton. Or rather, she bumped into me… quite literally…"

"Oh?" Dan replied, curiously.

"Yeah, I'll tell you later. Can we go now, Dan?"

"Sure, we have everything we need, I think," Dan nodded, "Let's go."  
And they turned to leave.

Their plan of paying exiting the shop was interrupted by another aptly timed encounter. As they were approaching the tills, they saw their arch nemesis one again, also heading towards the checkouts.

" _Careful_ …" Dan warned, under his breath, " _A wild Erica appeared…"_

" _What will you do?"_ Phil chimed in, quietly, " _Item? Fight? Run?"_

" _Dan and Phil used run_."

" _Too late: she's seen us_ ," Phil hissed, holding Dan by the sleeve. He gave an awkward wave to Erica, who was staring him in the face.

Heading to the same till might not be a very good idea.

 _"It's OK, we'll just pretend we weren't leaving yet,"_ Dan whispered, turning away. Their decoy wasn't very convincing, but at least Erica didn't follow them.

They ended up staying ten minutes longer than they expected, hanging about around the milk (where they found some lactose-free milk that Phil hadn't found before, so it wasn't all a waste of time, even though it was cashew milk and they hadn't tried that before, so it could taste horrible).

It was just as they were about to leave when they got a call from Dil. They'd exchanged numbers yesterday and found that there was surprisingly good signal in the Sims universe.

"Hey!" Dan coughed, hurriedly answering the call and shoving the shopping basket into Phil's arms.

"Are you two OK? I only sent you out for cereal and bread," Dil asked. He sounded quite concerned, "You've been quite a while."

"Oh, yeah, we're fine," Dan replied, looking around to check that Pendleton wasn't around, "We just… ran into someone that we knew."

"Oh? Which friend would that be?"

"Uh… Not a friend exactly, I wouldn't say."

"Not Eliza?"

"No, no, not Eliza… Worse: Erica Pendleton."  
"Avoid her at _all costs_ ," Dil warned.

"Too late for that, mate," Phil chimed in, "I've had a bit of an awkward encounter already. I'll tell you about it later. Don't worry – we'll be back soon."

"Right. Stay safe, guys," Dil concluded, ending the call.

Dan stuffed his phone back in his pocket and looked around before giving a sigh and cracking his shoulders,

"OK, Phil, let's go," he sighed, putting a hand on his friend's shoulder and guiding him to the door.

Thankfully, their enemy had left by then.

* * *

Dan and Phil were half way home, carrier bags in hand, when they ran into her again.

This really wasn't their day.

Trying to keep a polite reputation, they decided to say hello, seeing as they were walking past her as they strolled by Magnolia Blossom Park.

"Hello there! Funny running into you again, right?" Phil laughed, uneasily.

"Yeah… You're not following me, are you?" Erica replied, still slightly frowning.

"No, no, of course not," Dan said, shaking his head, "Just happened to be walking the same way. Maybe a good time to introduce ourselves?"

"Erica," Erica said, flatly.

"Nice to meet you – I'm Dan and this is Phil."

"Sorry about our… encounter… in the supermarket, by the way," Phil coughed, "I have clown feet, it's bound to happen, I should've been looking where I was standing."

For the first time, Erica smiled.

"It's OK," she said, "Just a bit awkward. Nice to meet you, I guess."

"You too," Phil nodded, "We're staying with Dil, so if you ever want to pop in for a cup of tea, you're perfectly welcome."

Mentioning Dil was, of course, a very large mistake.

"Dil, huh?" Erica hummed with a scowl, "Maybe I will have to come by sometime…"

"You sure will! See you around, Erica," Dan nodded with a ginger grin, steering Phil away and heading on down the path, " _Just had to bring up Dil, didn't you?"_ He hissed when they were out of earshot.

"Sorry," Phil stuttered for the fourth occasion in a very short amount of time, "Couldn't control myself – you know what I'm like."

"Yeah, try and be a bit more careful next time," Dan sighed as they neared home, "Now come on, it's almost twelve and I'm starving."


	13. Hand in Hand

**A/N: Thank you all for getting Outre to over 1000 views! And for all the lovely reviews, I really appreciate having people take time to actually read whatever random thing I happen to have written on whatever day I happen to upload it. I hope you're all enjoying the story so far, I have some pretty good ideas for future chapters. I see this being a long one...**  
 **Ciao for now, guys, and thanks again!**  
 **-Whisker**

* * *

"Hey, we're home!" Dan called as he and Phil walked through the door into the living room, greeted by the warm smell of food.

"Great!" Dil grinned, suddenly appearing before them, "Did you get everything on the list?"

Dan nodded,

"We certainly did."

"Thanks for your help, guys! Didn't get into any fights, then?"

Phil laughed, awkwardly, and scratched the back of his neck,

"Well… Not a fight, exactly," he replied, uncomfortably, "Just a bit of an… encounter. And I may or may not have inadvertently told her that she could come round for a cup of tea whenever she wanted."

"Phil has made a horrible mistake," Dan put in, handing Dil the shopping bags.

"I'm sorry!" Phil groaned for the fifth time that morning, hanging his head in utter shame.

"Ah, well, not to worry," Dil assured him, "I'm sure we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. Anyway, I've invited her around for quite a few house parties before and nobody died so how bad can it be?"

Both Dan and Phil gave an uneasy laugh,

"Yeah, I wouldn't talk too soon," Dan said, "But we'll see. Anyway, what are you cooking? I'm starved."

"Nothing much," Dil replied, ushering them both inside and locking the door behind them, "Fish tacos. You can raid the fridge if that's not your… thing."

"No, it's fine; I've always kind of wanted to try fish tacos…" Dan hummed. He wasn't too sure about Phil, but his consent didn't matter.

"What have you been doing while we've been out?" Phil asked, wobbling as he bent over to untie his shoelaces.

"Oh, just making plans," Dil replied, opening the oven to check on the fish. This was the second meal including fish in 24 hours.

Dan yawned as he collapsed back onto the sofa, pulling Phil down with him.

"Chez Llama this evening?" He asked.

"Yeah, and some... other things… But that doesn't matter now, tell me about Erica!"

* * *

The clock was steadily ticking by on the wall; bordering on half six in the evening; and the Howlters and their house-guests were currently getting prepared for a night out at the fancy restaurant down the road.

The plan had been agreed on and Dil had offered to pay for all the food – after all, their lodgers had been through a lot and they were more-or-less family anyway, it would only be polite.

The sun had almost fully gone down by the time they'd started getting ready: putting on their best clothes and fixing up their hair before they had to leave.

The cold bathroom tiles beneath their feet, Phil and Dan stood in front of the bathroom mirror, toothbrushes in one hand and hairbrushes in the other.

"I'm quite concerned as to what exactly they're going to serve us in Chez Llama," Dan said, eventually, trying in vain to brush out his curls, "It's supposed to be a science-y restaurant, isn't it? They'll probably feed us all sorts of experiments."

"Hopefully nothing radio-active," Phil replied, his voice muffled by the toothbrush in his mouth, "But surely it can't be worse than last time when they didn't even serve Dil and Tabitha food _at all_."

"True," Dan nodded, combing over the same knot another forty-two times. Hobbit hair wasn't quite the look he was going for if he was going to be visiting a fancy bistro.

"Are you two ready yet?" Dil asked, poking his head into the room.

"Yeah, just about," Phil affirmed, though Dan still hadn't managed to get rid of all his curls: he'd had to give up on his dream of a perfectly straight fringe, but a few stray ringlets wouldn't be too noticeable, he supposed.

Following Phil out of the door, Dan grabbed his jacket and slipped on his shoes. He saw that the whole family was already in the living room, waiting for them. Everybody was dressed in their smartest clothes (and yes, Dil was wearing trousers this time); even little Dab was sporting a shirt and tiny, black bowtie.

"Looking smart, Dab!" Dan grinned, ruffling the toddler's frizzy hair.

"I suppose you could say he's looking very…" Phil started in a hushed voice, a smug smile on his face, "…Dabber…"

"Phil, I will hurt you," Dan huffed, scowling at him, but inside he couldn't help but laugh. He was happy, of course, that Phil had finally cheered up after being so fidgety for the last couple of days, but he only wished that his joy didn't have to be expressed through bad jokes.

And on that note, they set off, braving the outside world, strolling down the street like a little posse, looking like they were on a very serious mission.

The Howlters walked hand-in-hand and Dan and Phil tagged along behind them, hands in their pockets, all five of them promenading along in the glow of the street-lamps that shone like spotlights onto the dark road below.

Chez Llama wasn't far, and they could just about see its lights through the beautifully ornate windows, not distant from them, beckoning them towards the warmth and away from the chilly Feburary evening air.

The building was certainly very extravagant from the outside, and Dan was a little bit intimidated by its size and how luxuriant it must be on the _inside_ , too.

Giving a casual sigh, Dan turned to look to Phil, put a gentle arm around his shoulders and smiled,

"Are you alright?" He asked, "Hungry?"

"Starving!" Phil laughed, turning to him, "I'm glad we're going out somewhere for food," he said, "I'm not sure I could cope with reheated fish tacos from lunch."

Dan chuckled,

"They were pretty… strange… weren't they?" He hummed with a smile.

"Not as strange as whatever we'll be served here, I bet!" Phil sniggered, gazing up to the magnificent building in front of them that looked more like a museum than a restaurant.

It was at that moment that Dab appeared beside them, tugging at their sleeves in an attempt to get their attention.

"Oh, hello!" Phil chirped, slightly surprised at the sudden emergence of a small child.

"What's up, pal?" Dan asked, cheerily, standing still for a minute so he could kneel down to address Dab.

"An!" Dab babbled, holding out his hand to grab Dan's fingers.

"You want to hold my hand as we cross the road?" Dan enquired, "Well, Ok then," and he stood up straight again.

Dab took hold of Phil's hand, too, and toddled in-between them, the most gleeful of expressions upon his face.

Of course, both Dan and Phil had to bend to the side an unnatural amount so that he could reach their hands, but the look on the kid's face was too adorable to resist.

And so that was how they walked the rest of the way to Chez Llama, even helping Dab up the steps to the door by swinging him up each stair.

Dil and Tabitha seemed happy to see their son interacting with Dan and Phil – who were completely enthralled with the endearing toddler – and Dab seemed to be having the time of his life with them, too.

So much so, in fact, that Dil and Tabitha thought their two lodgers would make very good guardians…


	14. Chez Llama

Everybody in Chez Llama looked very high-class and stuck-up, all sitting straight-backed on their silver chairs with their tiny portion sizes and their sparkly suits that probably cost thousands of simoleons and they all looked up from their tables to sneer as this family all gingerly walked past, looking a bit lost.

It must have been a tad abnormal to the employees at the restaurant to greet five people who all looked conspicuously similar, but seated them at one of the booths in the corner anyway: the same table Dil and Tabitha had sat at, in fact, on the day of the proposal. Maybe they recognised Dil from the time he'd visited without pants.

So now Dan, Phil, Dil, Tabitha and Dab all sat in their little corner, feeling a bit out of place, looking down at all the posh, expensive stuff on the menu.

Some examples of the 'food' served here in Chez Llama were: 'Space Taco with Pearled Egg Core', 'Spherized Fruit Gel in Foam Nest' and 'Volcano Pasta', and none of them seemed entirely appetising.

"Let's start with drinks," Dan suggested, quietly, leaning over to scoot closer to Phil and point out things on the menu, "It says the chef's choice is the 'Monte Vista Reserve Renoit', whatever _that_ is."

" _Of course it would be, it's the most expensive_ ," Phil whispered so nobody could hear him, " _I see coffee; let's get that_."

"I agree," Dan nodded, noting that coffee was 41 simoleons cheaper than what the chef's choice of wine was, "Starters? Are we really hungry enough for starters?"

"Have you seen the food here? The portions are tiny! Of course we can stomach starters. Now, what is there?"

"Try not to laugh, OK? 'Cured Meat Crisps on Reclaimed Forest Wood'…"

Phil sniggered slightly before hurriedly composing himself and clearing his throat,

"Carry on," he hummed, straightening his back.

"Glacier Infused Iceberg Lettuce…" Dan continued, "Savoury Bacon… uh… 'Love Petals'…"

"Isn't that what we ordered for them last time?"

"I think so, yeah. It seemed apt then, what with it being a proposal and all, but now it just seems weird."

"Yeah, maybe don't get the… 'Bacon Love Petals'. What sounds the least toxic? The lettuce?"

"Suppose so. Don't know what 'glacier infused' is supposed to mean, but OK then. You go for that, I might try the meat crisp… things."

They weren't too sure what half of the stuff on the mains menu was, either, but they just decided on what sounded most normal.

They had to decide quickly because they could see the waitress (who looked suspiciously like Mia Yang) coming to take their order. She looked a bit more laid-back than any of the guests in the place, so ordering wasn't as awkward as they'd expected (though, in a state of mild panic, Phil's accent turned full Northern again, like it always did at the most inopportune of situations).

It was slightly strange to Dan that Dil and Tabitha both ordered exactly what he and Phil made them order last time, but maybe it was just something engrained into their minds.

As Dan and Phil sat in silence, staring at the pictures on the menu and quietly sniggering at their names, Dil and Tabitha settled their son down, tucking a napkin into his shirt and making sure he looked presentable. In a place like Chez Llama, you would always be judged on your children's appearance.

Fortunately, Bob and Eliza Pancakes weren't here this time, so that took away a bit of tension.

* * *

It was actually quite comfortable in the restaurant after they'd all established themselves: everything was very clean and there were no loud children anywhere – even Dab was being very well-behaved – and the food was truly quite nice when it arrived, even if the portions were a bit on the smaller side.

It was only when they were all half way through their main courses that things started to get a bit awkward.

It began with the arrival of a certain somebody wearing an elegant yellow dress. This certain somebody was seated at the booth opposite the Howlters and their houseguests and proceeded to sneer at them for two full minutes. Erica.

It wasn't her choice, of course, to be seated nearby them – it just happened that way and everyone had to deal with it.

" _I don't want to alarm you_ ," Dan murmured to Phil, " _But it seems that_ -"

"I've noticed," Phil replied, dryly, "Just ignore her; it's fine. Just eat your… meat crisp things on reclaimed forest wood."

Dan sniggered, glad that Phil wasn't freaking out like he would have done yesterday. Maybe it was the coffee, but he seemed a lot more peaceful, handling situations calmly instead of getting tense.

So they all slowly and elegantly finished their food and turned to ensue a conversation, wisely choosing to ignore their unwanted company.

"So, Dil…" Dan started, Phil quietly listening as he adjusted his tie to hang straight, "You mentioned earlier that you were 'planning some things'?"

"Yes?" Dil replied, slightly confused as to where this could be going.

"What kind of things were you thinking of?"

"Well… Tabitha and I… we've been thinking for a while now that we should go away together. Just for a few days, you know? But we've never gotten around to booking anything."

"Because now you have a toddler to take care of?" Phil interjected.

Dil nodded,

"We didn't really have any family members or close friends that we could trust to take care of him whilst we'd be gone."

"Phil and I could baby-sit, I guess," Dan offered.

"I was hoping you'd suggest that," Dil smiled, "It'd be great if you could. That's if you don't mind, of course, you don't have to if you don't want."

"We'd love to!" Phil grinned. He was getting quite fond of little Dab and would jump at any opportunity to spend more time with him. Besides, it'd be nice to be alone with Dan for once. As much as he loved Dil and Tabitha, it was always nice to just spend some time with Dan – it'd feel more homely if there were just two of them looking after Dab together.

"Thanks so much, you two!" Tabitha chirped, "I was really hoping you'd say yes to it. It'll be nice to have some time to ourselves for once."

"Us, too," Dan agreed. It seemed he was keen on the idea, too, "When were you thinking?"

"Well-" Dil began, but was interrupted by the waitress coming to collect their plates and offer them desserts. Dan and Phil had opted to save money and share – after all, it wasn't them who were paying, it was only polite – and so they all ordered quickly and went back to their tête-à-tête.

Erica seemed to be eavesdropping on their exchange, but it wasn't particularly obvious. She could have just been in deep thought, but neither Dan nor Phil would put it past her.

"We were thinking in a couple of days," Dil said, "If that's alright with you?"

"Of course it is; it's not like we had anything planned!" Dan grinned, covering up the fact that he was quite concerned by Erica's apparent listening in.

"We can discuss it more later," Phil put in, seeing the danger in allowing their enemy to know when they'd be out of the house.

Erica seemed to see Dan and Phil as quite helpless, and having Dil and Tabitha out of the way would be a one-off opportunity to carry out whichever of her evil plans she had tucked up her sleeve.

"Sure," Dil approved; maybe he'd realised the danger, too, "Probably for the best," and he flashed a momentary glace to Erica.

Dan swallowed, put his arm around Phil's shoulders and hugged him to his side,

"But whatever happens," he said, "We'll take very good care of Dab. Won't we, Phil?"

Phil gave an awkward laugh,

"We certainly will!" He nodded. Maybe a better phrase would have been 'we'll certainly try' but he didn't want to put Dil and Tabitha off the idea – or have Erica think they'd leave the child vulnerable.

It seemed they'd do a pretty good job, though. They had a strange hold on Dab: something about them both made him comfortable, clearly; it was obvious, as the kid had fallen fast asleep against Dan's side.

If Erica wanted to hurt Dab, she'd have to get through Dan and Phil first.


	15. Pumpkin Spice Pumpkin Cookies

"Vinegar."

"What?" Phil coughed, his eyes flickering open as he looked over the back of the settee to see into the kitchen.

"It smells of vinegar."

That was Dan. He was currently cleaning the kitchen, a sponge in his left hand and a spray bottle of whatever un-named, supermarket-brand window-cleaner he could find in the cupboard.

"Use something else, then," Phil sighed, turning over and closing his eyes again. He'd only woken up five minutes ago. A rude awakening it had been, too: the sudden sound of a very loud bang that was, in fact, everything in the kitchen cabinets falling out all over the floor, "Why are you cleaning, anyway?"

"Thought I'd do something nice for our friends, you know? After they paid for a whole meal last night," Dan replied, pouring some of the cleaner into a bowl of warm water. He'd heard that window cleaner was good for cleaning the insides of microwaves, even if it did smell very… acerbic.

"But it's six AM!" Phil hissed, "And anyway, I- Oh, wow, that does smell of vinegar," and he coughed. He was okay with vinegar most of the time, but when it smelled so pungent, he couldn't help but recoil.

"Maybe I shouldn't use the window cleaner…"

"Yeah, probably for the best. Just tip it down the sink."

"But then the sink'll smell!" Dan moaned.

"Just wash it out with soap and water. Next time, if something smells like death, don't pour it into a bowl," Phil frowned, sitting up. He'd only had around five hours of sleep that night, and waking up to the smell of window cleaner wasn't really helping his mood. He stood up then, wrapped himself in the soft blanket he'd been sleeping under and wobbled his way to the kitchen, "Look, Dan, I've got a better idea."

"What?" Dan asked, sounding interested.

"Baking!" Phil grinned, leaning on the counter islands, "We should make them cookies or something before they go!"

Dan gave a happy 'ooh!' sound and nodded, violently,

"Good idea! What should we make?"

"Well, I'm sure we put the recipes for our baking videos in the descriptions, so you could look through those. You think about it, I need to get dressed …" Phil suggested, stretching and yawning, quietly, before picking up his clothes from the back of the settee and heading to the bathroom, trying not to wake anybody up in the process.

Both he and Dan had had to borrow some of Dil's pyjamas, because it had been freezing cold that night after they got home and they needed all the warmth they could get. They'd gotten home at around eleven at night and fallen asleep at one, so they were both pretty tired out, and the Howlters were all still dead to the world.

Baking was a bit of a strange activity to engage in at such an early hour, but it was actually quite a good time, seeing as nobody else was about.  
Whilst Phil got dressed and put his contact lenses in, Dan set about finding the most delicious-looking recipe on his channel: Pumpkin spice pumpkin cookies – a bit unseasonable for February, maybe, but definitely still delectable.

The WiFi was surprisingly good 'down here' (as Dan had begun to refer to it as), so it didn't take him long before he was reading the recipe and digging around the kitchen for ingredients.

"Flour, baking soda, salt, ground ginger…" he mumbled to himself, poking his head into the overhead cabinets, "Ground cinnamon, vanilla extract, molasses…"

It took a while, but eventually, he found all of the ingredients – including the utensils – and set them all out on the counter in a very nice, neat line. He was doing this as Phil came back into the room, straightening his shirt collar (which, of course, was red and plaid) and violently blinking one eye.

"Are we short of anything?" He asked.

"No: I've found everything we need. Should we start?" Dan asked before turning around to face his friend and giving a sigh, "Did you poke yourself in the eye again?"

"Maybe," Phil replied, ever-so-slightly guiltily, his eye watering, "Doesn't matter: I'm fine. Now, what are we doing first?"

"Dry stuff: you pour the stuff in, I'll mix, cause we all know how it turned out last time," Dan replied, picking up a bowl and a spoon and pre-heating the oven.

Phil sniggered and dragged the scales across the counter so he could reach it.

The clock was turning half five and so time was of the essence if they were going to bake these surprise cookies before anybody woke up. Besides, nobody would be able to pour their cereal if the counter was covered in flour and baking trays.

"Try not to spill anything, I know what you're like," Dan warned, standing up straight again to squint at the scales to make sure they had precisely the right amount of flour: it was an exact science.

Thankfully, throughout the whole ingredient measuring and mixing, no horrendous accidents were caused and their mixing bowl was, for once, big enough to fit everything in.

"And now, Phil," Dan proclaimed, folding his arms, "We mix it all together!" And he turned to Phil and frowned, "I swear, if you don't stop sniffing the vanilla essence…"

"Sorry," Phil sheepishly apologised, putting the bottle back on the counter even though he wasn't sorry and the vanilla was one of the best things he'd ever smelled.

"Now put it down and find the end of the cling film while I mix," Dan ordered, beginning to stir the contents of the bowl. He could hear Dab beginning to wake up in the other room, so they had to be quick: they only had under an hour and the dough still hadn't gone in the freezer yet.

"What do we do if they wake up?" Phil asked, "It won't be a surprise anymore."

"Well, they'll still have some cookies, whether they're surprised by them or not," Dan replied.

"That's if everything goes to plan," Phil said, still clawing at the cling film tube. He was usually quite good at finding the end, but he hadn't had any caffeine since last night and his left eye was still a bit blurry.

"Do you think we can do it?" Dan asked with a sigh.

"Yeah, sure, it won't take that long-"

"No, I don't mean the baking."

"What do you mean, then?"

"Childminding Dab. Seems like a lot of responsibility and he's not even our child. What if something goes wrong? Like he gets abducted my aliens or-"

"Don't panic, Dan," Phil assured him, tearing the cling film and holding it out, "I'm sure everything will be fine."

"But what if we remember everything and we have to go home mid-way through looking after him and it's the only chance we get and we can't-" Dan started again.

"Dan…" Phil sighed, laying his cold hand on Dan's shoulder, "Trust me, it's going to be alright. We can do it, honest! Don't worry, just focus on the baking," and he gave a quiet laugh.

Dan smiled back to him, looked to his feet and put the bowl on the counter,

"You're right. Come on, let's get these biscuits in the freezer…" he said.

He always got worried about responsibilities, especially something as big as looking after somebody's child, always thinking he'd manage to mess up somehow, but so far in his and Phil's little adventure, nothing seriously bad had happened, so perhaps it would be alright after all…

"I suppose we'd better clean up," he said, turning to Phil as he slid the cling-film-wrapped dough into the freezer drawer.

"Yeah…" Phil agreed, gazing at the mess they'd created on the counter-tops, "Just don't clean it with vinegar, OK?"

Dan laughed, shutting the freezer door and brushing himself down,

"I won't. You tidy up the cushions on the sofa, I'll try and clean up this… chaos."

Phil nodded and did as he was told. Secretly, he was pretty worried about having to look after Dab, too, but whatever he'd do, he certainly wouldn't show it – he was trying to be more relaxed since he felt like he'd been a pain to Dan over the last few days and he was trying to do something to resolve that. Besides, it'd be an experience, at least, and if any life lessons were to be learned at the end of it, at least he'd know never to have children.

Hopefully, it wouldn't go as badly as 'Who's Your Daddy?' and Dab wouldn't drown in a pool or get smacked in the head by the shower door.

Arranging the cushions on the sofa, he cast a look at Dan. He looked capable enough, he supposed, and he'd seemed to click with the child so far. Phil was certain that everything would be fine.

"Have I got flour on my shirt?" Dan asked, bringing Phil back to reality: he'd noticed that he'd been staring at him.

"No, no, I was just thinking, that's all," Phil coughed in reply, standing up straight.

"Cold, isn't it?"

"What?"  
"Today. It's cold," Dan repeated.

Phil didn't reply, he picked up the blanket he'd had wrapped around his shoulders before and wandered over to the kitchen to drape it around his friend.

"There you go," he said, simply, "Better?"

Dan blinked once, expressionless, and pulled the blanket further over his shoulders.

"Yes," he said, eventually.

Phil put his hands behind his back and started to hum 'Welcome to the Black Parade' as he turned away to curl up on the sofa.

"And now we wait, I suppose," he coughed, after a while, "Unless you can think of something more interesting to do?"

Dan shook his head and brushed the rest of the flour on the counter into the bin before sitting down on one of the barstools and wrapping his legs around it.

"Are you OK?" He asked, not making eye contact.

"Of course I am," Phil smiled, "Why? Am I bleeding?"

"No, you just…" Dan started, then shook his head again, "Never mind. You were just a bit quiet, that's all."

"I'm fine," Phil assured him, "Don't know why you're worrying about me. Now come and sit with me for half an hour. I hope you're willing to give me half of that blanket: I'm freezing."


	16. Chapitre Seize

**A/N: Hey! Sorry about having you wait so long for... this. It's a kinda long chapter that doesn't really advance much, but be assured, things are going to pick up pace in a bit, what with all the talk of baby-sitting and all. I have some plans and some notes written down and I'm trying to type stuff up as fast as I can because I like to keep people busy (though you're probably getting fed up of this story now!), but I kind of just made this chapter up as I went along. I hope you enjoy it anyway! Until next chapter, sayonara!**

* * *

Cinnamon, ginger, vanilla and black treacle...

They were the smells drifting from the kitchen at half seven that morning: definitely a nicer smell to wake up to than window cleaner.

Dil rolled over to stare at the clock and sighed. It was just around the time that Dab would be waking up and dashing into his room to try and drag him out of bed.

He could smell something coming through his bedroom door, something nice and gingery, but he couldn't quite put his finger on what it was. Of course, he never would have guessed it was the smell of pumpkin-spiced cookies straight out of the oven.

He could hear, too: the sounds of quiet chitchat in the other room. This was, obviously, Dan and Phil, who had just finished baking: warm, soft biscuits that smelled of cinnamon and ginger.

Curious, Dil finally got up, got dressed and drowsily wandered to the kitchen to get his breakfast. He was also trying to identify the strange, gingery scent he could sense.

He came wobbling into the room to see Phil and Dan stood by the counter, facing away from him, in dead silence.

"Good morning, guys!" He called.

Dan and Phil both swivelled around to face him, looking a bit startled, Phil holding a cooling rack and looking a tiny bit less astounded than Dan, whose eyes were wide in surprise.

"Hey, Dil!" Phil smiled, sheepishly, "Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, thanks… What are you doing?" Dil asked, puzzled.

"We've been baking!" Dan replied, grinning like a cat from Cheshire, "Pumpkin spice cookies: want to try one? They've just come out of the oven so they're still warm."

They hadn't found any pumpkin-shaped cookie-cutters, so they'd used circles and tweaked little stalks on the top, and they hadn't found any icing, so undecorated biscuits would have to do.

Dil awkwardly took a cookie and looked up to Dan,

"Why were you baking at _6AM_?" He quizzed.

"Just thought it'd be a nice surprise for you to wake up to!" Dan answered.

"As a thank you!" Phil added.

"Oh, wow, thanks, you two!" Dil laughed, "But it's really me who should be thanking you for offering to look after Dab whilst me and Tabitha are away!"

Dan and Phil's smiles fell and they both gave a ginger laugh.

"Wow, they're delicious, too! How did you make these? You'll have to give me the recipe, they're amazing!" Dil chirped, happily, biting into the biscuit.

"Glad you like them!" Phil said, merrily, getting his smile back, though the mention of responsibilities had somewhat shaken him, "We made them for when you and Tabitha go away; you can take them with you."

"Thanks again. You guys should get jobs as pastry-cooks at Chez Llama," Dil said with a snigger.

He was joking, of course, but things might come to that if Phil and Dan were stuck down here for much longer; it's not like they could just stay around and child-mind and bake for free rent, they'd have to make some money somehow eventually, and this was only adding to the increased amount of duties on their mental to-do lists.

"Not a bad idea," Phil said with a forced smile. He didn't know whether he was joking or not.

"We were thinking of tomorrow," Dil said, turning to him, "What do you think?"

"For what?" Dan asked, slightly confused.

"Me and Tabitha. Going," Dil replied, "If that's OK with you, I mean."  
"Oh, yeah, yeah, that's fine," Dan said, assuredly, though he wasn't quite certain whether he really thought it was fine or not. Was he really ready to take on all that responsibility?

"Definitely an A-OK," Phil agreed, putting down the cooling tray and putting his hands behind his back.

"Great! We were thinking of going to Oasis Springs. For a whole five days, if that's alright?"

"Sure," Phil nodded. He _wasn't_ sure.

"I hope you'll be OK on your own," Dil said.

"So do I…" Phil sighed before Dan elbowed him in the side and corrected him with,

"We'll be fine!"

"That's good! So I also thought, seeing as we won't be seeing you for a while, we could take the opportunity today to all go out together, you know? So I thought ' _well, why not let them choose? I bet they've got loads of places they'd want to go_ …'"

Dan and Phil looked to each other in an element of slight bewilderment, both with the same expression on their faces. They seemed to communicate without words, just using looks to connect.

Their conversation went a bit like,

' _I know where this is going…'_

' _Yeah, me too.'_

' _Quick, think of somewhere to suggest.'_

' _I can't!'_

' _Well, we can't just leave it up to him again.'_

' _Why not? I see no problem with that.'_

' _Dan, no: think!'_

Then followed by some strange eye twitches and frantic glances to Dil and then back to each-other.

"So I suppose what I'm trying to say is, is there anywhere in particular you two would like to spend the day?" Dil asked, eventually. It had taken him way too long to get around to asking that with all of his ramblings.

"Uh, well-" Phil started, before Dan interjected with,

"Isn't it just as nice staying at home and having a family day in?"

"Huh… I never thought of that!" Dil laughed, "That's actually a really good idea!"

Dan breathed a sigh of relief and put his arm around Phil's shoulders,

"Well, let's wait until Dab and Tabitha are awake and then we can ask them if there's anything they'd like to do. We can always just sit around and watch TV or something," he suggested to Dil, who nodded and finished his pumpkin spice pumpkin cookie before turning to the tea machine and switching it on.

Phil and Dan moved out of the way, soundlessly slipping around to the other side of the breakfast bar and resting on it with folded arms.

"On the day we all met…" Phil started, awkwardly, after a while of silence, "We told you that we're from… another universe. Remember?"

"Of course I do," Dil nodded, turning to him, "What about it?"

"We said our jobs were working together as internetainers, didn't we?"

"You certainly did."

"How would you like it if we showed you some of our work?" Phil asked with a wan smile, "Like the video when we created you…"

Dil looked a bit surprised at this suggestion. He'd never thought about how weird it would be to see himself being designed…

He hadn't really given the whole 'living in a video game' thing much thought until now. It had never occurred to him that his friends – his creators – had actually chosen how he would look and what he would act like, and even though the idea was… _strange_ , to say the least, it kind of drew him in: he was interested in how this whole life came about.

He'd always been curious as to why he could never remember his parents and his childhood… maybe his questions would all be answered.

"I'd like that," he decided, giving a confident nod.

"It doesn't… weird you out at all?" Dan asked.

Dil shook his head,

"No," he replied, "I _want_ to know."

* * *

" _Hey guys!"_

" _Hello! So today me and Phil are sat at the PC…"_

Dan and Phil could hear their own voices from the other room. They'd set up the computer and opened up YouTube to search the first ever Sims 4 episode and now Dil was sat on the chair, staring at the screen, completely engrossed.

" _Well, Dan! Today we are going to be playing… The Sims 4!"_

Phil gave a sigh. He and Dan were curled up on the sofa, trying not to hear. They hated watching their own videos, especially ones that old, and watching them in this situation was just a little but un-nerving. Besides, they knew that if they looked at the screen, they'd only get homesick and wish they were back in the 'real' world.

" _I want to admit something before we start this: I have never owned or played one of the main Sims games before…"_

Dan bit his lip, idly scratched the back of his neck, cracked each of his knuckles in turn and yawned. He considered turning the TV on to drown out the noise of his own recorded voice, but frankly, he couldn't be bothered. There was never anything good on, anyway: just culinary training shows and weird renditions of Downton Abbey.

He quickly glanced to Phil – who had his chin rested on the arm of the sofa and looked a mix of bored and in deep thought – then looked away and gave a smile as he laughed a very short, hollow snigger.

Why were they both sat around being melancholy and wondering what to do next? They should be having fun and socialising with everyone they've ever met!

"Phil," Dan started, giving his friend a gentle nudge on the shoulder, "Phiiiilll?"

"Hmm?" Phil hummed, turning to him, looking a bit tired, "What is it?"

"Want to go out for a walk? We can get coffee," Dan offered with a kind smile.

Phil enthusiastically agreed; he was dying for some caffeine.

"Hey, Dil!" Dan called, "We're going to go out for a walk, do you need us to do anything while we're out?"

"Nope. Have fun, guys!" Dil called back, not averting his eyes from the computer.

"Good. Come on, Phil," Dan said, standing up and giving his friend a hand up, "Get your shoes on and we'll go; I think we need to talk **..."**


	17. The Existential Crisis

**A/N: So, few notes: I've changed the cover picture for Outre (let me know if you liked the other one better, I can't decide)! And Phil said in his last YouNow live stream that the next gaming episode will be a Sims 4 one so I'm really hoping nothing drastic happens and I have to change all my plans because I have everything planned and otherwise I'll have to write, like, three filler chapters. In other news, I made an Instagram account where I'm planning on putting up daily drawings, sketches, spoiler snapshots of my notes and other Dan and Phil stuff like that because I felt I needed another account just dedicated to them: search 'TwentyOneCatWhiskerz' that's with a Z at the end, not an S. Anyway, sorry this chapter's a bit short, at least it's not about food: the next one will involve a bit of domesticity and a lot of Dab.**

 **-Whisker**

* * *

"So… Where are we heading?" Phil asked as Dan shut the front door behind them.

"Anywhere: just a stroll. Thought I needed some fresh air, you know?" Dan replied, putting his hands behind his back and starting to walk down the path.

Phil followed on beside him, glad to be outside again.

"Are you OK?" He asked.

"I'm fine," Dan assured him, and he seemed like he meant it, too.

His and Phil's footsteps were the only sounds to be heard as they wandered down the street. It was still early – not _really_ early, only quarter past seven, but still quiet – and rather cold. The sun had only just risen, the air was still chilly and neither Phil nor Dan were wearing a coat, but they didn't mind, of course, they were British: they were used to it.

Phil swallowed and bit his lip; he was still a bit tense about what would happen tomorrow. He needn't worry, though – Dan would be there to help him for the whole week – they could work as a team and be the best childminders the world has ever known.

"You said we needed to talk," Phil started, turning to his friend, "What was that about?"

"Oh, yeah, that," Dan scoffed, "I just needed to get you out of the house. It's nice to be alone, yeah? Just thought we could chat, that's all. We haven't been doing much of that recently."

"You're right," Phil admitted, "Guess we've just been too busy and tired to have a proper casual conversation… So, how are you?"

Dan sniggered,

"I'm very well, thank you, Phil. How have you been?"

"Ah, I'm normal, I suppose," Phil smiled.

"Normal?" Dan repeated, pulling his friend to his side and putting his arm around him, "Well, that won't do, Philly. What'll cheer you up?"

"Coffee," Phil replied, mildly surprised at being called 'Philly' and the sudden arm on his shoulder blades, "Coffee would definitely work."

"I have some spare change in my pocket, we can find somewhere to get a drink if you like," Dan offered.

Phil nodded, enthusiastically.

"Well, there's the nightclub place but I'm not sure they do coffee, so we might have to resort to Chez Llama again…" Dan continued, "If that's OK?"

"Absolutely."

"You just really want caffeine, don't you?"

"It's the majority of my diet: I need it to survive," Phil justified.

"I'm not even questioning you anymore," Dan laughed, looking down at his feet, "Now come on, let's go."

* * *

Coffee wasn't available to take away in Chez Llama (surprise, surprise) so there was no choice but to have a long sit down in the restaurant and a relatively nice conversation.

The staff had come to recognise them and hadn't given them a nice booth this time, they had to sit at a two-seater table next to the window, but they didn't really care because they could quietly look outside at everyone passing by.

"Look, Phil, I need to ask you a question," Dan sighed, eventually.

Phil's ears metaphorically pricked up at the sound of this and he tilted his head to the side a tad,

"Go on?" He urged.

"Why were you being so… anxious… over the last few days?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"Of course you do. Now be honest with me," Dan urged, "You know you can tell me: I'm your friend."

"I…" Phil started with a stammer, "I really don't know. I don't know what it is, I just don't feel… calm: not like when we're at home. Everything here is just so weird. And besides, we've been through a lot recently so you can't blame me-"

"You're usually so upbeat."  
"I don't know what my problem is."

"Are you scared?"

"What would I be _scared_ of?"

"Never getting home?"

"… I _… I mean_ , I never _really_ -"

"Phil…"

"Fine: yes! Ok? Yes!" Phil retorted, "I'm terrified, alright? And what if we don't get out, Dan? What then? What about our families, our friends? What about YouTube? Everyone's probably _already_ worried about us!"

"Phil, it's okay. Look, we're going to find a way out of this, believe me," Dan comforted, laying a hand on Phil's arm. He was glad his friend was finally opening up, it was just convincing him to calm down that was the problem now, "You trust me, don't you?" He asked, quietly.

Phil looked to him with widened eyes and gave a sigh,

"Yes…" he said, "I trust you, I really do, I just… Oh, I don't even know anymore! I'm sorry…" And he put his head in his hands.

"Hey, don't worry about it," Dan sighed, patting his arm, "You're fine. We all have moments."

"Is this what an existential crisis feels like?" Phil asked, weakly.

Dan sniggered, then his face fell because this was a very logical explanation for everything.

"Yes, actually, Phil – you're having an existential crisis," he nodded, "You're questioning everything you've ever known and that's why I can't help by stroking your arm and telling you it's OK, because you're not even sure if _I_ exist anymore."

Phil stared up to him and sighed, loudly, before resting his chin on his palm.

"I hate having an existential crisis," he mumbled.

Dan smiled,

"It'll pass," he assured him, putting his hands around his coffee mug again to warm them.

"Will I get over it?"

"You don't get over these things, Phil, you learn to deal with them."

"I suppose you're right. So what you're saying is that we should be trying to remember what happened and solve this whole conundrum?"

"Precisely! And have fun while we're at it, too. Look, I've said it before and I'll say it again: we're in a game – we have no worries here. We have opportunities: we can do whatever we like. Why aren't you enjoying this?"

"You're right, Dan," Phil smiled, wanly.

Dan was definitely the best friend he could have, he'd realised (he'd realised it a while ago, in fact, but every so often he'd just become immensely aware of it). It was hard to stay sad for too long when you have Dan there to cheer you up. It was true vice-versa, too: they'd help each other out whenever it was needed, like earlier when Phil had assured Dan that they were both capable of looking after Dab for five days.

And Dan was right: they both just needed to calm down and enjoy this.

"Finish your coffee and we'll go home," Dan said, cracking his knuckles, "I bet everyone's waiting for us."

"They might just want a family day to themselves."

"Phil, _we're_ their family, and we have to look after them…"


	18. Crayons and Paper

"Are you ready to go?" Tabitha asked her husband as she heaved her suitcase off the bed and onto the floor.

"Yeah, just about," Dil nodded, checking around to make sure he hadn't missed anything, "Are you sure Dab will be alright with those two?"

"Of course he will!" Tabitha assured him, "Didn't you see how much he likes them? He'll be _fine_ : they all will!"

Dil looked at her, sighed and then smiled,

"I suppose you're right," he admitted, "They _have_ all seemed to click so far. And, I mean, _I've_ survived so far with their… 'Parenting'… so how bad can it be, right?"

"Exactly!" Tabitha chirped, "Now let's go and give them the schedule and make sure everything's alright before we go."

And they dragged the suitcases into the living room, leaned them up against the side of the sofa, and turned to Phil and Dan, who were currently leaning on the dining table and staring at an A4 sheet of paper that was laid atop it. Dab was sat on the sofa, watching TV after finishing his breakfast. He knew what was going on but, all in all, didn't seem all that bothered.

"Oh, so you've found the rota already, have you?" Tabitha smiled to Dan, "Is everything alright? Any questions?"

Dan quickly glanced to her,

"No, everything's fine," he replied.

Phil didn't look up; he still had his eyes glued to the paper. So many errands… but he was glad it was all spelled out nice and clear for him.

"And you'll be OK on your own?" Dil asked, seeming somewhat concerned.

"Sure we will!" Dan guaranteed, "I'm certain we can manage – can't we, Phil?"

Phil slowly nodded with a quiet 'uh-huh…' but still didn't make eye contact.

Five whole days they'd be left with Dab – a whole working week. There were two of them, at least, so that'd make the job a lot easier, but he just didn't trust his own child-care skills.

Dil strolled over to them to re-check the timetable to make sure he hadn't missed anything out. He hadn't.

"I guess we'll be leaving now, then," he said, "If you need anything, just give me a call, OK?" And he gave both Dan and Phil a quick awkward hug before he waved goodbye and headed to the door.

Phil and Dan brushed themselves off and stood up straight like soldiers. They were taking their mission very seriously.

"Dada!" Dab whined, crawling off the sofa and wobbling over to Dil.

"Hey, Dab, don't worry – we'll be back before you know it!" Dil said, assuredly, patting his son on the head and ruffling his hair, "And you'll be able to hang out with our friends, too."

Dab didn't seem that torn about his parents leaving, he just cuddled his mother and father before toddling over to Dan, who put one hand on his head and one hand on Phil's shoulder.

"Well, bye, guys!" Dil called, giving a wave.

"See you later!" Dan and Phil chorused – and Dab gave the toddler equivalent of a 'bye-bye!' – as Dil and Tabitha left out of the door.

Then they were alone.

It was like their shield of protection had finally fallen and now they were left to their own devices to fend for themselves.

Nobody spoke for a good half a minute, they just stood around and stared at the front door, Dab clinging onto Dan's leg and Phil quietly slipping his hands into his back pockets.

"So… what's the agenda, captain Lester?" Dan coughed, turning to his friend.

"Well-" Phil gingerly coughed, "There isn't actually anything on the rota today, so we're free to do whatever we like, really…"  
"Oh… OK, then…" Dan mumbled, "That doesn't help much."

This was when Dab started pulling at his trouser leg and looking up to him, wide-eyed.

Dan gazed down to him,

"What is it, pal?" He hummed, whisking his hand away from Phil's back and crouched down to see Dab eye-to-eye.

"Show!" Dab exclaimed.

"You want to… show me something?" Dan asked, tilting his head to the side.

Dab nodded.

"Well, OK, then – lead the way…" Dan continued, standing up again.

The toddler dragged him all the way into his bedroom and gestured for him to sit down on the floor.

Dan sat.

"Now what?" He asked with a smile as Dab opened up the toy chest and rummaged around for something.

Phil appeared in the doorway then, arms folded, watching on like some sort of bodyguard, looking out for dangerous situations.

 _'Sit down!'_ Dan mouthed to him, and so he reluctantly sat down next to him, cross-legged, his elbows on his knees and his chin resting on his palms.

Dab pulled out, from the chest, two sheets of paper and a few multi-coloured wax crayons.

"Show draw!" He said (he'd been learning to talk properly recently) as he laid them out in front of Phil and Dan.

"Oh, I can't draw…" Dan laughed, quietly, "You'll have to ask Phil-"

Phil frantically shook his head throughout this last statement, but Dab looked so disheartened that he couldn't help but sigh and give in.

"Right, what do you want to draw?" He asked with a weak smile.

"An-thing!" Dab said, shoving a sheet of paper and an orange crayon at him.

Phil gingerly took them, cleared his throat and scratched the back of his neck.

To his surprise, before he could do anything more, Dab clambered under his arm and plonked himself down in the middle of Phil's legs, still holding his own paper and a purple crayon.

Phil was slightly staggered by this action, but brushed it off, folded the paper in half to make it sturdier and uncomfortably began to draw. What he was drawing, he didn't know, he just made it up as he went along, starting with an oval.

Dan also seemed very interested by this action, so he scooted closer to look over his friend's shoulder and watch, intently.

Phil cast a glance to him before returning to whatever he was doing. Dab followed along with him, making a circle atop the oval and two triangles on top of that.

Phil had never really been the artsy type – he was creative, sure, he just wasn't very good at drawing – but whatever he was sketching seemed to keep the child contented, and when he was done, it didn't look all too bad, either.

"There you go," he coughed, "It's a cat."

It was, indeed, a cat. No doubt about it. The cat in question was two circles, had two tiny lines for eyes, a W for a mouth and three whiskers on either side of its face. Sure it was simplistic, but that was all that was needed.

"See, yours is better than mine," Phil commented with a grin, looking down to Dab's paper. Dab seemed pretty happy with his compliment and Dan seemed pretty happy that Phil was smiling again and that he was actually interacting with the child instead of sitting in a corner and chewing over his life choices.

"Draw dog!" Dab said, enthusiastically.

"A dog? Uh, OK… I'll try…" Phil sniggered.

* * *

And that's how they all spent their morning, sat on the bedroom floor, sketching away, the time ticking by. They didn't even notice when it turned mid-day and they couldn't care less that they hadn't eaten anything since breakfast.

And that was when both Dan and Phil realised that they would make the best childminders ever.


	19. Bedtime Story

The day flew by, it felt so quick, and it was the first time in five days that Phil had been happy for 12 straight hours. Maybe his and Dan's chat the day before had actually done him some good.

It was only at seven in the evening when the rota came into play – Dab's bedtime.

Both Dan and Phil had been dreading this moment the whole day: the temper tantrum that the toddler was bound to throw and the hours that it was sure to take to get him to _stay_ in bed.

So a few minutes after dinner (their first actual meal of the day), Phil and Dan began their… mission.

"Dab!" Dan called after clearing his throat.

Dab was currently sat on the sofa, watching television, as Dan cleaned the kitchen and Phil made sure every chair at the table was perfectly level.

"An?" Dab babbled, turning around and kneeling to look over the back of the settee.

"Can you go and get your pyjamas on, please? It's almost time for bed," Dan said, gazing across to him but not stopping wiping down the microwave.

Dab frowned,

"Whyyy?" He moaned, wearing a stereotypical toddler sulky face.

"Hey, don't worry, one of us will be in in a minute to read you a bedtime story," Phil replied, standing up straight and sticking his hands in his back pockets, "So you can pick out a book at the same time as you're getting changed, too."

This suggestion seemed to work and Dab quickly jumped to his feet and hurried (as fast as he could totter) into his bedroom.

"Good job, Phil," Dan sighed with a smile, finally putting his cleaning cloth down.

"No problem!"

"Though you do realise you are the one who's going to have to do the reading?"

Phil's grin fell,

"Oh," he said, simply, "OK, then," and he yawned.

They hadn't had a very busy day today but seeing as it was still only early in the year, the sun had started to go down a while ago and the darkness was making him tired.

"Well, I think we did pretty good today," Dan hummed, putting his hands behind his back, "Don't you?"

"Yeah, Dab seems happy enough," Phil agreed, "I'm sure we can keep it up for a week: this was easy!"

Dan nodded, enthusiastically. He himself wasn't sure that they could 100% manage it, but he didn't want to put his friend down.

This was when Dab appeared in his doorway, holding a book in the air like Rafiki held Simba in The Lion King.

"Stowy!" He chirped, excitedly.

"Right, OK, I'm coming…" Phil sniggered, straightening his fringe and brushing down his shirt as he began to walk to the door, Dan leaning on the kitchen counter and watching on with a smile.

"What do you want me to read?" Phil asked, closing-to the door behind them.

Dab handed him the book in his hand. It had a cartoon dog on the cover – a black Labrador – and the title of 'The Dog That Ran Away'.

Phil gave a quiet snigger at its name before kneeling down on the floor beside Dab's bed. He would have sat on the bed, only his legs were too long and he would have been almost curled up in a ball.

Dab clambered under the covers and drew them over his mouth and nose, settling down to listen.  
Phil had never liked reading in front of people, but tonight would just have to be an exception, so he cleared his throat with a cough and opened the book.

"'There was once a Labrador puppy called… Dan…'" he started, his face falling as he read the name 'Dan', but he picked his smile back up and carried on anyway, "'Dan lived in a house in the country with his human family: daddy Ben, mummy Lyn and little Timothy. Now, every day, Dan would sit under the dining table and when nobody was looking, he would get up and steal some food from the table. Mummy Lyn and Daddy Ben would get very annoyed at him and even shout at him, and Dan didn't like being shouted at. One night, Dan had had enough of being yelled at, so he ran away from home. He ran away to the park down the road where he knew nobody would shout at him ever again.

'The day afterwards, Ben, Lyn and Timothy found out Dan was gone and they were all very sad, so they made posters and put them up around town, telling everybody to keep an eye out for a black Labrador.

'Dan saw one of these posters when he was walking around one day and he saw that his family missed him and he felt very sorry, so he decided to go back home to them.

'When he got home, everyone was really happy to see him again and Dan realised that his family loved him and that he loved his family, too, and it was his fault if any of them shouted. So from then on, Dan was a very good puppy indeed. The end.'"

Dab clapped his hands, happily, and Phil looked at him with a strange expression like he was slightly confused as to why this story had delighted him so much.

"Alright, goodnight, Dab," he said, standing up and patting the child's head before bending over to put the book back in the chest.

"Kiss!" Dab requested, "Daddy always gives me kiss."

Phil looked back to him, sighed and strolled back over to kiss his forehead,

"Goodnight," he repeated, smiling.

He turned away, walked out of the door, turned the lights off with a quiet click and closed the door just in time to hear Dab's little call of,

"Goodnight, Uncuw Fiw!"


	20. Anything is Possible

**A/N: This is so short, help.** __ **Trying to write. Got to go fast.  
That is all, frens.**

* * *

 _Splash!_

That was certainly an unexpected noise at one in the morning.

Phil sat bolt upright, his eyes wide open, staring ahead of him to the magenta drinks bar. He swallowed, slightly nervously, and looked around the dark room.

Nothing seemed out of place…

That was until he noticed that Dan wasn't asleep, curled up in his little cushion cavern like he usually would have been.

Stretching and confusedly standing up, Phil noticed that the outside lights were on in the yard, so he blearily stumbled over to the door and found it unlocked.

He pushed open the door and looked up to see a very blurry Dan sitting in the pool, elbows resting on the decking and fingertips trailing in the water, wearing Dil's green swimming shorts.

"Oh! Hello!" He laughed, awkwardly, when he saw Phil squinting at him, "Sorry, did I wake you up?"

"Yeah…" Phil coughed, rubbing his tired eyes, "You did, actually… uh, it doesn't matter, though, it's alright, I don't mind. Anyway, _What_ are you doing?"

"Oh, I couldn't sleep so I decided to go for a…" Dan started before putting his hand on his chin to think.

"For a..?" Phil pushed.

"Well, I was going to say swim, but it's a bit… small… really… you can't really… swim… A float! I decided to go for a float," Dan concluded, leaning back on his elbows again, "You can come and sit with me if you like. I mean, it's pretty cold, but the water's warm; you could, like, just dip your feet in or something."

Phil seemed to consider this for a moment before shrugging and walking over.

"Great! I was hoping for some company, you know?" Dan grinned, "No idea why I couldn't sleep. You were out like a light for once; don't know what that was all about."

"I was tired," Phil replied, blankly, sitting down by the pool and rolling up his trouser legs to dangle his feet in the water, "People usually sleep when they're tired."

" _Really?_ " Dan breathed with a sarcastic air to his voice, "I never knew that!"

Phil turned to him and gave a smile.

"I feel like we should take him out somewhere tomorrow," he said.

"You mean today?"

"Yeah – today… later. I don't have a clue where, but we should take him out. Where _is_ there?"

Dan shrugged.

"I can only think of Magnolia Promenade," he answered, "Shops. We could buy him something, I guess – as a treat, like."

"As good as anything," Phil nodded, staring into the water.

The lights behind them reflected from its surface and the stars were mirrored in it, too, as if lots of tiny fireflies had landed on the ripples and were sitting there, all perfectly still.

"We're good childminders, don't you think?" Phil asked, not tearing his gaze away from the water.

"Definitely," Dan agreed, "I mean, we managed to keep Dab entertained for a whole day without even doing anything…"

Phil sniggered,

"Five days?"

"I'm sure we can do it."

"I'm sure, too," he said as he lay back so that his head was on the grass behind him before yawning.

Dan turned around to look at him and smiled.

"Don't fall asleep on the grass," he whispered, "You'd better go back inside where it's warm… Phil?"

But his friend didn't reply because he was too busy staring at the stars. He wondered whether they were the same stars he'd see back home… probably not. But there was a familiarity to them, he felt… maybe he was just feeling euphoric because he was lying on the grass with his best friend in the early hours of the morning, gazing at the huge globes of burning gas in the sky, but there was definitely a feeling there: a feeling like hope - like he was finally coming to grips with reality and was ready to take on whatever this universe decided to throw at him.

He'd get home eventually; with his friend by his side, anything – he felt – could be possible.


	21. Gehen

**A/N: Hey! Sorry about the wait, I went round to my friend's yesterday and never got round to writing anything. This chapter's a bit of a ramble - I just kind of made it up as I went along - but I'm also working on another new story at the moment, so look out for that. For those of you who don't know, I've made an audio-book type thing on YouTube of the first chapter of Outre. So if you want to hear my weird British accent, YouTube search 'Outre Chapter 1 - Arrival' (links don't work on FanFiction).  
Until next time,  
-Whisker**

* * *

"Hey, Dab, are you ready to go?"

"Uh-huh."

"Great – come on, then, off we go! Coming, Phil?"

"Yep!"

"Good. We're going to have to walk, if that's alright?"

"Yeah, it's fine. Could do with some exercise, anyway."

"Right-o, out the door then, chop-chop."

Phil and Dan had agreed that they would take Dab out to Magnolia Promenade to do some shopping and have some 'family' time. They had currently only just left the house and were locking the door.

It was chilly outside, even though it was sunny, so they were all wrapped up in coats and scarves, Dab wearing a fluffy hat with tiger ears and print that Dan thought was the most adorable thing to ever grace the Earth. If this _was_ Earth, that is.

Double-checking that the door was locked, Dan turned to his friend, who was making sure that the child's coat was buttoned and that he was warm enough.

"Come on, you two, this shouldn't take us too long," he said, pulling Phil to his feet and patting him on the shoulder.

Dab toddled over to take Phil's hand and, Phil bent to the side a bit, they all set off down the path.

The cold atmosphere did them some good, actually: they'd been inside and cosy for so long that they'd become so used to the warmth. The cool woke them up at last, though, and they strolled along alertly.

Dan gave a sigh and his warm breath showed up like a mist in the air. He looked to Phil in a manner that showed his concern for his spine and offered to take Dab's other hand so the child could walk between them.

The walk was surprisingly nice; Dab seemed to be having the time of his life with his two childminders swinging him off the ground with every step.

They must have looked a strange trio, to say the least, what with Dab's hair and Phil and Dan's height. But they looked happy and that's all that counts.

While they walked, Dan thought. He thought about how they were going to keep Dab entertained for three more days… how hard could it be, right? Kids were easily amused, weren't they?

This was when an idea struck him.

 _"Phil, Phil!"_ He whispered, frantically, to his friend, "I have the _best_ idea!"

"What is it?" Phil asked, interested, tilting his head.

"Squareflakes!" Dan exclaimed with a grin.

"Oooh, good idea! And glitter… face things. We'll have to have a look for stuff in the shops, won't we?

"That's our evening sorted."

Phil sniggered,

"Who knew that Dan and Phil Crafts would help us baby-sit?" He hummed, thoughtfully, as they all carried on along the road.

"Wha?" Dab started, looking up to him.

"Oh, nothing," Phil coughed, "Just talking about what to do this afternoon. We have a very good idea and I think you'll like it."

Dab gave an excited… noise… of some kind,

"What is?" He asked.

"I'll tell you when we get to Magnolia Promenade," Dan replied, "Now come on, let's go, I'm freezing," and he smiled, his dimple showing.

Coughing, Phil pulled his scarf over his mouth and nose to warm the air he was breathing. It felt like it was going to snow, but the Sims didn't really _have_ seasons, so that was impossible.

"You alright?" Dan asked, putting a hand on his back and letting go of Dab's hand.

Phil nodded as he felt a tug on the end of his coat. Looking down, he saw that Dab had grabbed it and was now holding onto it instead of his hand. This didn't seem like a bad arrangement at all: definitely better for his and Dan's spines.

Dan smiled and Dab gazed up to him, his fluffy tiger hat almost falling off as he did. Dan pushed it back onto his head and snickering before turning back to Phil – who had started to happily hum a tune – with a shiver.

" _We're good baby-sitters, aren't we, Phil?"_ He whispered with a smile.

He couldn't see Phil's mouth because of the scarf, but his eyes seemed to smile as he nodded.

" _Absolutely."_


	22. Squareflakes

Dan stepped through the front door and gave a 'phew' as he shut it behind him with his foot. He dropped the carrier bag in his hand and unzipped his jacket.

Phil flung his scarf onto the armchair beside him and knelt down to help Dab take his shoes off,

"There you go!" He smiled, gently placing them next to the door and laying the child's blue coat on the back of the chair, "Why don't you get some comfier clothes on while Dan and I make some tea, OK?"

So Dab happily tottered off to his bedroom.

Dan slid down the door until he was sat on the floor and gave a sigh. His legs were aching and the change in temperature from outside was making him sweat. Swallowing, he untied his shoelaces and pulled his trainers off.

They'd all walked the whole way to Magnolia Promenade in the freezing cold, looked round the shops and then trudged the way back again and now they were very tired out. Except Dab, who had a tremendous amount of energy, even for a toddler.

Phil stood up and gave Dan a hand to his feet.

"You put the coats away, I'll put the tea machine on," he said, patting him on the shoulder and handing him his jacket.

"Alright…" Dan sighed, taking it along with Dab's coat to Dil's bedroom.

Phil yawned, picked up the carrier bag and wandered over to the kitchen to boil some tea and get two cups out of the cupboard.

Whilst the water was boiling, he decided to lay some things out on the table.

Three A4 sheets of paper – one for each of them – and three pairs of scissors (normal ones, left-handed ones and children's ones for Dab) that they'd had to buy because they couldn't find any in the drawers anywhere.

Dan came back into the room then and stood watching him place every piece of paper perfectly symmetrical with the scissors.

"You alright there?" Dan asked, suddenly, making his friend jump back in surprise.

"Oh, uh, yeah," Phil laughed, clearing his throat and scratching the back of his neck, "I'm fine. Here, sit down. Tea?"

"Yes, thanks," Dan nodded, taking a seat on the black chair – naturally his favourite.

Phil stretched as the tea machine clicked off and he wandered over to pour the water into the mugs he'd already gotten out of the cupboard.

"Here you go," he said as he handed it to Dan and sat down next to him, wrapping his ankles around the legs of the chair.

Dab came toddling into the room then, a look of excitement in his eyes,

"What doing?" He asked, clambering up onto the blue chair opposite Dan.

"Well, Dab…" Dan started, "Phil and I decided that we should do some…"

"Crafts," Phil put in.

"Yes, thanks, Phil," Dan nodded, "So we've got some paper and scissors and we thought we could make some squareflakes."

Dab tilted his head to the side in confusion.

"What a swerefwake?"

"It's a snowflake but in the shape of a square," Phil replied before realising that Dab probably didn't even know what a snowflake _was_ , "It's a piece of paper with holes in it, basically," he corrected himself.

"Oh…" Dab hawed, staring down at the paper in front of him.

"Look, I'll show you what to do," Dan smiled, "Fold that paper in half… yep, that's right. Now in half again…"

Dab looked absolutely fascinated by this paper-folding adventure and followed Dan's instructions to a T, even making sure every corner was straight (because, as Phil had said, otherwise he would be sad at the lack of symmetry in his squareflake).

"If you're feeling adventurous, you can fold it in half again," Phil said, leaning his elbows on the table and sliding his folded paper to the side.

"Now get those scissors and just cut any pattern you want," Dan chirped, pointing a finger to the small blue scissors next to the child's arm.

" _Just be careful and don't cut yourself because we'll be held responsible and I don't want to be sat in court, being accused of murder_ ," Phil put in, quickly and quietly.

"Phil _… chill,_ " Dan whispered, laying a gentle hand on his friend's chest and pushing him back so he sat straight.

Phil cleared his throat.

" _Sorry…"_ he coughed, "I mean… have fun!"

Dab didn't seem to notice his previous sentence, anyway, so it was alright. And he was surprisingly careful with the scissors as well.

Dan watched on with a smile before he remembered that he had some paper, too, and set about folding it.

Phil put his hands around his warm cup and grinned.

He'd never thought that one day he would be sitting at a table _inside a game_ , making square snowflakes with a virtual person, but here he was.

He sipped some tea and then gently placed the cup back on the tabletop, snipped a few patterns into his paper and then leaned casually on one elbow as he gazed across to Dab.

" _The folded edge shouldn't be cut all the way through otherwise your squareflake will die_ …" he whispered to himself, quoting his and Dan's YouTube video.

"Did you say something, Phil?" Dan asked, suddenly looking up to him.

"Nothing," Phil replied, shaking his head.

"Done!" Dab beamed, holding his paper up in the air and dropping the scissors.

"Well done! Now unfold it," Dan instructed, unfolding his, too.

And Dab spread out his squareflake to reveal the most intricate pattern that Phil and Dan had ever seen.

"That's amazing," Phil breathed, whilst Dan just sat and stared.

"Well done!" Dan said at last, "You know what I like about squareflakes?"

"What?" Dab asked.

"They're a really nice activity for when you feel sad."

Phil nodded, catching the drift,

"So remember," he started, turning to Dan before they both chorused,

"Don't cry… CRAFT!"

* * *

 **A/N: We really need to lay this joke to rest. I'm sorry, I just couldn't help it. Anyway, besides the point, I'm going to be busy for a couple of days, so chapter 23 might be a bit delayed. Not to worry, though - I'll still be posting pictures daily on my Instagram (TwentyOneCatWhiskerz). Until next time.**

 **-Whisker**


	23. Fault

It was that evening when it happened.

It took Phil Lester very much by surprise.

But it still happened.

Phil had noticed that, over the past couple of days, even though he had been happy enough to help him, Dan had been looking – when idle – like he was in deep thought about something. His expressions changed from thoughtful to confused to, this evening, irritated, like he was having a very gradual realisation about something.

Phil had been concerned at first, but had brushed it off as just Dan's natural resting face – or maybe a bit of an existential crisis he didn't want to talk about – but this Tuesday evening, three days before Dil and Tabitha were due back, it all became clear.

Dan had come to him, his hands behind his back and his face grave.

Phil had been curled up on the sofa, still dressed after a long day, snuggled up in his blanket, his phone in his hands.

"Oh! Hello, Dan…" he started when he saw Dan stood there, looking down at him.

Dan didn't smile. He looked… disappointed… _angry_ , even.

Phil frowned and locked his phone before gently laying it down on the floorboards.

"Are you coming to sit with me?" He asked, innocently.

"No," Dan replied, simply, expressionless.

"What, then? Is something wrong?"

"Phil. Stand up."

Phil cocked his head to the side, slightly confusedly.

"Why?" He asked again, more quizzically this time.

"Stand," Dan ordered, jabbing a finger to the floor beside him.

Phil stood. He didn't dare do otherwise. Dan wasn't usually like this; what was to come next he couldn't guess.

"I remember," Dan frowned, "Don't think I don't know it."

"Know… what?" Phil asked. He was genuinely bemused, but the expression on his friend's face told him he shouldn't have spoken.

"I remember everything," Dan continued, "I know what you've done, so don't try playing dumb."

Phil swallowed, having _no idea_ what Dan was talking about.

"If I'm perfectly honest, I can't believe you," Dan sighed, closing his eyes and shaking his head, "I thought you were better than this."

"Dan, I don't know what you're talking about, honestly," Phil said, "Please… tell me what's going on! Are you OK?"

"Am _I_ OK? Are _you_ OK in the _head_? What were you _thinking?_ You know not to do these sorts of things – we've _been_ through this!" Dan snapped.

"I- I-" Phil stuttered, jumping back in surprise, "What have I done? Dan, tell me!"

Dan gave a huff,

"Oh, I'll tell you what you've done, Pal," he hissed, "You got us here, that's what you've done."

"I don't-"

"You downloaded something, didn't you? Again! I know what you're like, but I never thought you'd do _thi_ s."

Phil couldn't even think of a response to that; he didn't even know what it was that he had apparently done that Dan was so up in arms about.

"I don't know what you're on about: I don't remember anything, I-" He started before Dan angrily cut him off.

"This is ALL YOUR FAULT!" He yelled, gripping Phil by the arms and digging his nails into his gaunt shoulders.

Phil winced, his eyes watering,

"I'm sorry!" he coughed, trying to pull away but only stumbling backwards, dragging Dan with him.

"We're stuck here, Lester, and we aren't doing anything to get back home. Why? Do you WANT us to die here?" Dan shouted, "IS _THAT_ WHAT YOU WANT?"

"No! I just-"

"Because that's what's going to happen: we're going to _die_ down here – we all are – and it's _your fault_!"

"Dan, calm down! You'll wake up Dab if you're not careful-"

"I don't care about the kid!" Dan rejoined, "Why _should_ I be? I should be outside, looking for a way to get back to the real world, not sat here… _baby-sitting_!" And he grabbed the edge of Phil's shirt collar, "Listen here: we – I – have better things to worry about than looking after some child."

Phil pulled away and started to step backwards,

"Dan..? What's gotten into you?" He asked, slightly scared, "You're not usually like this – this isn't… _you_ ," and he stopped walking rearward as his back hit the breakfast bar.

"Why do I even put up with you?" Dan sighed, gritting his teeth and putting his hands behind his back again as he walked toward him.

"Dan-!" Phil yelped before Dan shot out to take a swing at him, "What are you DOING? I thought we were friends-"

"Clearly not anymore," Dan growled, "I've catered for you for long enough. After all I've done for you, you don't even have the decency tell me that this is all entirely your fault? Some friend you are."

He would have managed to hit him, too, if Phil hadn't have grabbed his hands in the nick of time and blocked him.

"Please, Dan, stop this! You're going to get yourself hurt at the least-" Phil begged, his eyes squeezed shut.

"I'm going to get _myself_ hurt, am I?" Dan retorted, pushing against Phil's grip so that they both stumbled toward the dining table.

Phil's eyes watered as he saw the anger on his 'friend's' face and he felt himself lose strength. Dan was able to pull away and gave him a hefty shove into the sharp table corner and onto the floor, knocking the chairs and the momentum conserver as he did.

Phil winced, fell to his knees and bent over double, a hand pressed against the right side of his face where he'd fallen into the table.

"What was _that_ for?" He wheezed, drawing his hand away and shifting his gaze upwards, but Dan didn't meet his eyes because he'd turned away by then.

"I'm leaving," he snapped, walking away.

"Wait! Dan! No!" Phil choked, picking himself up, shakily, from the floor, "You can't just leave me!"

"Can't I? Well, that's what I'm doing, so I'll see you around," Dan huffed, swinging open the front door and storming out.

"No, wait!" Phil yelped, chasing him out of the door, "Come back, Dan; I can't do this on my own, I need you-"

"Goodbye, Phil," Dan barked, not even turning around.

Phil swallowed and dropped to his knees again, panting from exhaustion as he did. He bit his lip, wiped a speck of blood from his cheek with the back of his hand, gave a sigh and put his palms on the ground for support.

"I thought we were supposed to be friends… friends are supposed to help each other… aren't they? But now you… you _hate_ me, don't you?" he breathed as he lifted his head from between his arms to look down the road, but Dan wasn't even in sight anymore.

Phil sighed, loudly, and choked on his own breath,

"… _And it's all my fault…"_


	24. The Morning After

It had been a long night for Phil Lester.

He'd only had two hours sleep and now, even though he was exhausted, he had to get up and tend to his friends' child.

He was currently curled up on the sofa, wrapped in a blanket and resting his chin on a cushion, of which had a wet tear-stain on the fabric where he'd buried his face in it.

He really didn't want to get up and be responsible for a toddler's welfare at the moment: he'd much rather stay under the blanket where it was warm and mourn the death of his friendship with Dan Howell.

Curling up further into a ball, he stared, absent-mindedly, across the room and out of the window. It felt so strange without his friend there to smile and say 'good morning' like any other day.

He wasn't completely alone, of course, but it certainly felt like it.

' _I can't just sit here and sulk,'_ Phil thought to himself as he gave a sigh, _'I have a job to do. Dil and Tabitha are relying on me to take care of Dab. And that's me alone now that… that Dan's… not here…'_ and he shook his head to rid his mind of his thoughts.

Shakily, his eyes blurry and his legs rickety, Phil dragged himself from the sofa and stumbled his way to the bathroom to inspect himself in the mirror.

Pushing open the door, he met his own half-awake stare in the mirror and blinked once before giving a loud sigh. He rubbed his eyes and leaned on the edge of the sink, looking up to his reflection.

He saw that he had a rather worrying nick on the right side of his face and that his eye on that side had also started to come up in a bruise. That's what being pushed into a table does to you, he supposed.

Not that he cared, he didn't even bother to fix his fringe, only wiped that side of his face clean before unsteadily making his way back to the kitchen and digging a pan out of the cupboard. They didn't have a coffee machine so he'd have to make his coffee the traditional way. Not that he minded, of course, as long as it meant he got some caffeine.

It was when Phil had only just turned the cooker top on that Dab decided to wake up and come tottering into the room, sleepy-eyed.

"Good morning," Phil greeted him, forcing a smile.

Dab looked up to him and grabbed hold of the edge of the kitchen counter to steady himself. He gestured to the scratch on Phil's face, wearing a concerned expression.

"Cut," he said, simply.

"Oh, this?" Phil laughed, sheepishly, "Oh, that's nothing to worry about; I just fell, that's all."

This wasn't a lie, of course, but he made it sound like it was with the manner in which he said it.

"Where An?" Dab asked.

"Dan is… out. For a walk. He didn't say where he was going, but it's OK, he'll be back. Sometime," Phil replied, "Anyway, do you want breakfast?"

Dab nodded.

"Cereal."

"Alright, alright, I'm getting it," Phil sniggered, taking a bowl and laying it down on the counter.

"Had bad dream," Dab said.

"Oh, really? What was it about?" Phil asked, picking up the cereal box.

"Mummy and Daddy never came back."

"Well, that's not good. Don't worry, they're coming back on… when was it..? Sunday: the day after tomorrow," and he poured the milk, "Here, have your cereal."

"An come back?"

"Of course he will. I don't know when, but he will. He's just gone out for a bit. But that's OK, you get to hang out with _me_ now, right?"

Dab nodded as Phil handed him a spoon.

Phil watched him for a second or two before shaking his head and looking away,

"Anywhere you want to go today?" He asked, putting his hands behind his back.

Dab seemed to think about this for a minute, considering it deeply like it was the most important decision he'd ever make.

"No," he decided at last before resuming his cereal.

"Oh," Phil hawed, clearing his throat. He didn't really know what to do; usually he'd have… Dan… to help him come up with ideas, but today he'd just have to think up something himself.

According to the rota, Dab had to go to nursery the next day, so at least he wouldn't have to come up with anything for tomorrow.

Cracking his knuckles, he walked round in a circle a few times before stopping, looking out of the window and finishing making coffee.

Dab watched him do this with slight confusion, putting his spoon in the empty cereal bowl and patting his hands on the table.

"Uncuw Fiw?" He began.

"Hmm?" Phil hummed, spinning around to face him, his eyes wide.

"Are you okay?"

"Me? Yeah, I- I'm fine, why?" Phil replied, hurriedly, putting on a clearly fake façade of happiness.

Even Dab didn't look convinced. Kids had a funny way of knowing when something was wrong and Phil wasn't doing a very good job of covering up, either.

"Hey, don't worry about me, Dab. Look, you can get dressed and then we'll sit down and do some drawing or something, alright?" Phil suggested.

Dab nodded, climbed down from the chair and wobbled into his bedroom.

Phil slumped down against the kitchen counters, put his head in his hands and sighed.

This was going to be a long three days.


	25. So Much For Best Friends

"Right," Phil started, taking a seat beside Dab at the table, "What do you want to draw?"

"Look!" Dab chirped, picking up an orange crayon and starting to draw.

Phil watched on, intently,

"Oh, it's a cat!" He observed, "You've been practicing, haven't you?"

Dab nodded, clearly very proud of himself. He picked up a different coloured crayon and turned over his paper to start on another picture.

"You draw," he said, sliding a second sheet of paper to Phil.

Phil gave an empty laugh and swallowed, taking a normal black pencil and leaning on the palm of his left hand. He gave a sigh and slowly sketched a few lines.

Neither he nor Dab said a word for quite a while, which gave him an unwanted amount of time to think.

Hadn't it only been yesterday morning that they'd all walked downtown together? They appeared in high spirits then; Dan acted completely fine – _Ach,_ he'd even had his arm around Phil's shoulders. To append to that, four days ago Dan had assured him that he would never yell at him, never even mind hurting him.

It seemed they were best friends… up until last night, that is.

"Uncuw Fiw?" Came Dab's little voice from beside him, tearing him away from his thoughts and back to reality.

"Yes?"

"You not okay."

"What are you talking about? I'm _fine_ – I'm just tired, that's all," Phil replied, smiling weakly. He was, for the most part, just trying to convince _himself_ that he was fine.

"What you drawing?"

"I- Actually, that's a very good question; what _was_ I drawing..?" And he shifted his gaze to his paper. He hadn't really been concentrating; he'd decided to just do whatever his imagination wanted.

"Huh…" he coughed, scratching the back of his neck with his pencil, "It seems to be…"

"An," Dab put in.

"Yes… well, it's close enough, anyway," Phil affirmed. Strangely enough, even though he hadn't been concentrating – and he'd never really been an artist, either – he'd managed to create a rather good portrayal.

"It really good!" Dab enthused – looking like this was the most amazing thing he'd seen in his life.

"You think?"

"Yeah, yeah! It look like him!"

Phil gave a delicate grin,

"Let's see what you've been doing, then," he said.

Dab picked up his drawing and held it out, proudly.

Phil's face fell.

Just had to go and draw them all together, didn't he? Him, Dan and Dab, all drawn in patchy crayon with wide smiles, hand in hand with lines for bodies and limbs and circles for eyes.

Phil was glad Dab had held up the paper, because it meant he couldn't see his face since his eyes were beginning to water and he couldn't, under any circumstances, let the kid see him cry.

"Let's put some music on, should we?" He decided, standing up, abruptly, and stepping over to the lounge where he'd left his phone on the coffee table. He figured he could probably tune in to the radio, since the reception was strangely good 'down here'. Sure enough, it worked and Radio 1 crackled out of the speaker.

"Right, what's on..?" Phil mused to himself, fiddling around with the tuner until the sound was clear. It took him a few seconds, but he eventually made out the lyrics. Something about losing your 'sway and glow' or something like that.

Phil frowned and changed the station. This was so cliché…

Best Friends by Foster the People started playing. Not much better. At all. Maybe even worse. No, _definitely_ worse.

"Right, next…" Phil mumbled, switching radio stations. Again.

'Why Can't We Be Friends' by War.

Switching stations again, then.

This last song that was caught was a Queen song called 'You're my Best Friend'. Now, it didn't matter how great of a band Queen is, this was when Phil just gave up, put his phone back on the table and slumped back onto the sofa.

 _'Well then,'_ he thought, _'Just as I thought today couldn't get any worse…'_

Looking up, he stared out of the window and gazed to the sky. He felt like it should be raining, but of course that never happens and weather didn't exist here anyway.

Coughing, he got a strange tight feeling in his chest and keeled over to the side, a hand over his heart.

The feeling passed quickly enough and he regained his posture before shaking his head and standing up, shakily.

"Right," he started, "You hungry? I'm hungry, should we go out?"

Dab nodded, enthusiastically and hopped off his chair to toddle into his room.

Phil watched him leave for a few seconds before the tightness came back and, his legs wobbly, he slid down against the back of the sofa and knelt down on the floor.

Gritting his teeth from the aching, his breath beginning to wheeze, he put his face in his hands and gave a stuttered gasp as his eyes started watering again.

So much for best friends.


	26. Building Castles in the Air

_Knock, knock!_

That was the brash sound that woke Phil in the early hours of dawn when the sun hadn't risen yet, the morning after a long day.

His heart raced from being stirred so abruptly and he sat bolt upright on the sofa, his blanket falling onto the floor as he did.

He didn't want to get up and answer the door, what with being all sulky and depressed – and he hated being woken up anyway – but seeing as he was conscious now, he thought he might as well.

Giving a groan and pulling himself to his feet, he made his way to the front door, tripping over his feet twice in the process, brushing his fingers through his fringe and clearing his throat.

His eyes were still blurry as he laid his hand on the lock and unbolted the door to slowly drag it open.

"Hello?" He slurred, blinking a few times to adjust his vision; but as he did and things became clearer, he was able to see who stood in front of him and his heart jumped, "D- Dan?" He stuttered.

It was, indeed, Daniel James Howell.

"Hello, Pal," he replied, wearing a benign expression, a slightly sympathetic air to his voice,

"You… You came back…" Phil breathed, his eyes brimming with tears.

Dan smiled,

"Of course I did," he said, softly.

"I'm so sorry!" Phil whimpered, "I didn't mean to- and I- but I- I didn't know it'd lead to _this_!" He swallowed, the tears falling.

"Of course you didn't," Dan replied, putting his hands behind his back, "And that's why I'm here."

"To forgive me?" Phil stammered, his tears rolling into his mouth, "But why? This is all my fault – everything. You had every right to… to…"

"I know," Dan interrupted, "But I still came back. Because I'm your friend, aren't I? Look, I realise it must be difficult for you to know that you're the one who got us into this mess, but you've been through enough recently, don't you agree?"

Phil swallowed and tried to force a laugh. He did agree: he agreed very much, but he was still a tad wary. There was something about the whole situation, perhaps Dan's smile, which made it seem just a bit… surreal.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he sighed again, his face falling, "Are you really forgiving me after all _this_?"

"For the last time, of course I am. Now are you going to accept my sympathy? That's the question."

"I… well, I…" and he swallowed, "Yes."

"Finally!" Dan grinned, "Buddy; mate! I know it was hard for you being alone all this time, but we stick together now, can't we?" And he held his arms out, "C'mere, pal!"

Phil looked up to him, tearstains down his face. He still wasn't sure whether or not to trust him, but a part of him just longed to be back with his best friend again – happy to be forgiven for his mistakes – finding a way back home again so they could return to normal.

So he stumbled forward to his friend.

And that was when Phil Lester woke up.


	27. Lunatic

A dream.

Of course it was a dream.

These things just don't happen in real life.

He wasn't even sad anymore – what was the point? Dan hated him and that was final, there was nothing he could do about it, so why should he be miserable?

No, he wasn't morose anymore; he was just annoyed; annoyed that he knew this was all his fault. Not that he could remember anything yet, but he was taking Dan's word for it.

When he'd woken up, he'd found himself hugging a pillow like it would somehow save his life, and he ended up staring, soullessly, into the middle distance. It had taken him a good minute before he shifted his gaze and flickered his eyes around the dark room.

He looked emotionless because he was: he didn't know what to think.

He'd picked himself off the sofa, stood in front of the coffee table, put his hands behind his back and frowned, his breath wheezing.

What had happened to his friendship?

' _Will you and Phil be friends forever?'_

' _That's the plan!'_

What happened to that?

He'd turned so quickly. Maybe he was never his best friend in the first place.

And like Dan had turned, Phil turned, too.

He started innocently enough, just began to pace around the room, cracking his knuckles, but he felt like he could punch something.

What had he done to deserve this? He'd done something wrong evidently, but everyone makes mistakes, it wasn't _his_ fault.

Dan had just… snapped… he supposed, and he shouldn't be angry with him for that, but he'd _promised_.

And why hadn't he come back yet if he was his 'friend'?

Because he hated him.

Why hadn't he listened when he'd said he was sorry?

Because he hated him.

Maybe he'd hated him all along. It had certainly _seemed_ like that sometimes.

" _I just can't do anything right, can I?"_ Phil hissed to himself under his breath, his face a mix of angry and disappointed – not just with Dan, but also with himself.

" _It's like that was the straw that broke the camel's back: everything had been working up to that, hadn't it?"_

And he swallowed,

"But I have a duty of care," he said aloud, "And whether or not Dan decides to come back and play his part is entirely up to him…"

He shook his head, pacing round the kitchen,

"No, you know what? You know what? I hate you, too, Dan – you were the worst so-called friend I ever had – after all I've done for you, you fell out with me over _this_? _THIS?"_ He flared, snapping to the side, suddenly, and violently smacking a glass off the counter.

It fell to the floor and smashed, loudly, spraying glass shards everywhere.

The sudden smashing seemed to snap Phil back to reality and he leaned his hands on the breakfast bar, hanging his head and staring down at the floor, his breath heavy.

He really hoped he hadn't woken Dab.

Flicking his eyes over the glass, Phil gave a loud sigh and slid down the bar to sit, cross-legged, on the floor.

" _What have I done..?"_ He whispered, clenching his teeth and bending over to hang his head, _"I don't hate you, I could never, because I'm your friend, even if you're not mine,"_ and he looked up and to Dab's bedroom door to make sure he wasn't awake.

" _But I… can't do this on my own. I need you to come back, please, I'm begging you-"_ he started, talking to thin air, "Who am I kidding? You can't hear me. I'm a lunatic, aren't I?" And he shook his head.

He was going to continue, but it was then that he heard a strange noise from outside.

He gingerly picked himself up from the floor, one eyebrow raised, and crept to the window beside the front door to peer out into the dark night.

There, in front of the door, stood a figure dressed in all black, their right ear pressed to the door.

And then they made eye contact and Phil recognised them immediately...

Erica Pendleton.


	28. 2AM Encounters

"What are you _doing?"_ Phil hissed, swinging the front door open, "It's two in the morning!"

Erica jumped back in surprise and cleared her throat,

"Oh, I just, uh… I wondered whether you could help me out with something," she stuttered.

"What? At this time?"

"It's something pretty important."

"Couldn't it wait until _later?_ I don't know, maybe… when the sun has actually risen? How does that sound?" Phil retorted.

Erica looked a bit taken-aback and she flashed a glance over Phil's shoulder to the back door.

"Sorry," she coughed, "I guess I could come back-"

Phil sighed and shook his head,

"No, it's fine, honest. Sorry, I've just had a bad day. A few bad days, actually, but let's not get into that. Anyway, why don't you come inside?" And stepped to the side to let her through before flicking the lights on, "What's the problem?"

"My keys – my house keys – I lost them," Erica replied, "I was wondering whether you'd maybe seem them around?"

"Why would _I_ have seen your keys?"

"I'm going to ask everybody, I just came to you first."

Phil sat down on the back of the armchair and folded his arms,

"I haven't seen them," he said, "Are you only just coming home?"

"Yes," Erica nodded.

"Where have you been?"

"I… uh, I have been… at… a friend's house."

"Maybe you left them there? You could go back and check," Phil suggested.

"She's out."

"You could ring her."

Erica was quiet. It seemed like she was thinking.

"I could do," she said at last, "But… seeing as I'm here… could I use your bathroom?"

"Uh, sure, I guess," Phil coughed, awkwardly. He would've been more wary, only he was still tired and he was attempting to control his temper. Maybe Erica wasn't so bad after all – maybe she just had something against Dil – she _had_ apologised for snapping at him before, after all.

"Could you show me where it is?" Erica requested, "Don't think I've been here since it's been… remodelled."

"Oh, OK, yeah, sure," Phil agreed, standing up again and wringing his hands out, "Just… there," he said, pointing to the bathroom door.

"Thanks," Erica thanked him, heading over.

Phil watched her walk for a second before spinning around to the window again and squinting out into the night. He didn't know what he was looking for – any sign of Dan, perhaps – maybe he was just paranoid, but he could sense something wasn't quite… right.

He wasn't sure whether he was hearing things or if it was just his imagination playing tricks on him at first, but he definitely decided he'd heard talking from the bathroom. Erica calling her friend, he suspected, but what kind of friend called someone when they were in the _bathroom?_

This was when Phil became very suspicious. He stood, silent as a mouse, next to the bathroom wall and listened…

 _"In a few minutes. Yeah. OK, yeah, I'll be out soon… What do you mean? No, it'll be fine: kids are heavy sleepers… Hmm? Well if that happens, we'll just run, alright? Yeah… OK, see you in a second…"_

Phil frowned and folded his arms. He _knew_ something was up the moment he'd seen Erica outside, through the window. What _exactly_ she was plotting was unknown, but from the sounds of it, it wasn't about house keys.

As quietly as he could, Phil crept over to the other side of the room and leaned, casually, on the breakfast bar, waiting.

He had a good view down to Dab's bedroom door from there and so he settled down and quietly waited for Erica to emerge from the bathroom.

When she did, she flicked a glance over Phil's direction, but he didn't appear to be aware of her because he'd sat down on the sofa arm by then and had begun to aimlessly mess around with his phone. In actual fact, he was completely aware, but he had figured out that he'd only find out what Erica was scheming if he let her go through with it for a bit.

Erica was silent as she turned to quietly push open Dab's bedroom door. Or at least, she tried to be quiet about it, but the door made a loud creak as she touched it and that gave away her entire ploy.

Phil slid to his feet, put his phone on the chair and cleared his throat,

"What do you think you're doing, hmm?" He hummed, straight-faced.

"Oh! Nothing, I just wondered what was-" Erica stammered, surprised.

"No, you didn't," Phil said, flatly, shaking his head, slowly, "I know what you're doing, you know?"

"I wasn't doing anything!"

"Oh, really?" Phil started, and was about to continue, but before he could, there was movement outside the back door. He could see it through the glass and his eyes shot like lasers to it.

"I know precisely what you're doing…" he hissed, a tiny spark of anger in his eyes, "And I don't intend to let you get away with it."

"We weren't planning anything, I-"

"'We'? Who are you working with, then? I heard you talking to them on the phone, don't think I didn't…" and there came a frantic knocking at the back door.

"You, too, eh?" Phil huffed, licking his teeth as he saw whom it was. He wasn't even surprised anymore – he didn't have the energy.

It was none other than Eliza Pancakes.

Of course, it would be, wouldn't it? What better an accomplice to Erica?

Erica's face fell and she darted toward the door, but with his long, gangly legs, it didn't take Phil much to catch up with her.

He didn't manage to stop her, but he did manage to grab Eliza by the arm before she managed to run off back across the road.

"Oh! Hello, Philly!" She laughed, guiltily, cowardly, "Where's your friend? Is he not around?"

"He's gone; far away, probably. I'm sure he hates me. But what does it mean to you?" Phil rejoined, "You better not have hurt him…"

"Me? No, I would never do such a thing," Eliza denied, shaking her head, anxiously.

"What were you and Erica planning to do, then? Steal my friends' child?"

"Uh… suppose there's no hiding it now, huh?"

"Go on! Tell me!" Phil pushed.

"Something… along those lines… yeah," Eliza nodded, sheepishly, "And maybe, uh, hold him as a sort of… ransom? I, uh, I thought maybe it'd convince Dil to, uh, maybe come and rescue his son and then maybe stay with me… forever… But- but it was all _Erica's_ idea, of course! I didn't come up with it, I just… I was just going to help."

"I could get you arrested for this," Phil frowned, "But I'm a nice guy so I'll give you the benefit of the doubt and say you were forced into it. But if I ever catch you trying anything like this again…"

"Oh, of course, yes, I completely understand!" Eliza laughed, weakly, "Please let me go home…"

Phil sighed, let go of her arm and scowled,

"Just don't try this again!" He called after her as she dashed away.

And he stood, quietly, in the garden for a good three minutes before hanging his head and going back inside.

He was met with a scared-looking toddler, clutching a toy llamacorn in his hands.

"Uncuw Fiw?" He started, trembling.

Phil swallowed, meeting his gaze and gave a loud sigh,

"I'll explain tomorrow… alright, Pal? Goodnight."


	29. Take Me Somewhere Nice

11AM, Saturday morning, Magnolia Blossom Park, Willow Creek… somewhere.

Phil rested his chin on his palm and pined.

Even though the sky was bright, that didn't put him in a good mood and he could always find _something_ to fault – saying it was _obnoxiously_ bright, that the sun was in his eyes – anything to justify his temper.

He shook his head; he still didn't understand.

He remembered being in the office, that much was clear, him and Dan. They were setting up the equipment and switching on the computer, getting ready to start filming another gaming video. Turning on the camera was the last thing he remembered before everything had gone black.

He never could remember downloading anything beforehand. No expansion packs, software, updates… nothing.

Dan seemed convinced otherwise, though, and that was all he had to go by.

Then again, maybe it just hadn't come back to him yet; maybe he'd recall it in time, you never know. Whatever had happened and whether he remembered it or not, he still felt awful about it.

So now he sat.

Alone.

In the beautiful grounds of Magnolia Blossom Park.

But even the tranquil scenery couldn't lighten his mood.

And he thought.

He brought to mind all that had happened 'that' day: the night of the… fight: when Dan had left. For good.

He remembered the fit of anger: it was unexpected, to say the least. He harked back to the time Dan had assured him he'd never shout at him. But the yelling that night was enough to bring Phil to tears just thinking about, never mind the feeling of having disappointed his friend.

Phil was never one to shout. Whenever he was mad, he'd usually just shy away into a corner and think and calm down until the problem could be resolved. Only in severe situations would be raise his voice, and then he would be the deciding word, but that that night he hadn't been able to bring himself to it. All he'd been able to do was apologise over and over in his stunned state. He'd been tired anyway; perhaps he just didn't have the energy.

It felt like he didn't have the energy for _anything_ anymore.

And then there was the burst of aggression that had resulted in a black eye and a pretty nasty gouge.

Phil ran his fingers over the cut and flinched. It was starting to heal now but it was certainly still tender.

He must have done something _really_ awful, he thought, to make Dan so incensed toward him to the point of actually physically hurting him.

So now he sat quietly at a chess table in the park, idly moving around a few pieces, trying to look like he was practicing and not in the mood for conversation.

Not that anybody was around anyway.

He'd been terrible, or at least that's what he held. All he'd done was be fidgety and needy. Good old Dan had catered to his every need, so he thought he deserved to be walked out on after all of that on top of getting them both into this predicament in the fist place.

The violence was a bit much, maybe, but he definitely knew how Dan felt.

But he'd learned his lesson now and he only wished he could take it all back, back-pedal to before that night and apologise right there and then before things could get out of hand: say sorry for being such a… such an… idiot.

He held his head in his hands and gave a loud sigh of regret. The only word he could think of right there and then to describe himself was 'broken'.

It was then that he started to talk to himself.

Maybe it was from the loneliness, maybe he was going mad, or maybe he just wanted _somebody_ to hear.

In any case, he started with a quiet mumble of 'I'm sorry…', his voice dry and slightly hoarse.

He looked up to gaze around the park, but of course no-one was around. He couldn't decide whether that was a good thing or not.

" _I'm not just saying it_ ," he continued, faintly, " _I shouldn't have done it… I've been an idiot, I really have, and I bet that's what you think I am, too. But I'm so… so… sorry…"_

And he choked up on his own breath, biting his lip and wheezing. He closed his eyes and coughed, pulling himself together.

" _But whatever you think of me, I need my friend back…"_


	30. Flashbacks

**A/N: So much writing! I'm taking a bit of a break now, after all these regular updates, so I hope you don't mind me leaving you on a cliffhanger. I need to write some more notes down and all that, you know? Well, thank you for all your reviews! -Whisker**

* * *

Half an hour passed.

Phil sat and brooded, his back arched over the chess table in front of him, his folded arms narrowly missing the pieces.

He kept having flashbacks to the week behind him, remembering all the pleasant exchanges with Dan… before.

What had happened to his friend? They were doing so well before – in fact, they'd never been so close – but now?

Before, they were happy: they were enjoying themselves looking after Dil and Tabitha's adorable little son, telling stories and drawing pictures.

They'd been so friendly; everybody was having a pleasant time… weren't they?

A memory struck him.

 _"'Thanks, by the way. For putting up with me. I can be a bit much sometimes, I know, but you didn't yell and I appreciate it.'_

 _'Aw, that's OK: I wouldn't yell. Not at my best friend.'"_

Well, that promise hadn't lasted long.

Another flashback: everything Dan had said…

 _"'Phil, it's okay. Look, we're going to find a way out of this, believe me. You trust me, don't you?'"_

 _"'Are you alright there, Phil? You look like you've seen a ghost.'"_

 _"'We're their family and we have to look after them.'"_

 _"'Normal? Well, that won't do, Philly. What'll cheer you up?'"_

He'd seemed to have his best interests at heart: he cared about him. Or so Phil had thought.

He shook his head to banish his thoughts before swallowing, his throat stinging from the dryness.

How could his best friend – who seemed so concerned about his welfare – have turned so quickly? Phil wasn't angry anymore, he was just tired.

So now he sat in silence and the sun shone down on him, glinting through the gaps in the leaves on the trees around him.

He still had his face in-between his arms, his forehead resting on the table, his mind wandering, thinking about anything and everything, but it always seemed to come back around to his loneliness.

Eventually, he sat up straight, sighed and put an elbow on the table, moving a piece from the other side of the board towards him, his shoulders making a loud crack as he moved his arms.

He was still thinking.

A voice was what interrupted him from his thoughts; it came suddenly from beside him and made him jump slightly.

"Hey, mate, what are you doing there?" It asked. It was a man's voice, young but husky. It had a certain aridness to it that could only be caused by exhaustion and not drinking enough.

Phil didn't look up to make contact.

"Playing chess. Against myself," he replied, flatly, "I'm losing."

"That's no good. Why are you so long-faced, eh? Is something wrong?" The voice queried.

Phil gave a heavy sigh,

"Ah, it's nothing," he mumbled, "It's just my… friend… you see. He's kind of walked out on me. We were supposed to be working together. It's my fault, of course, I understand that much, but if he'd just given me time to explain, I… I could have…" and he was silent for a second, "No. No, I deserved it, really, after all I've done to hurt him – both of us, actually… Ach, why am I telling you all of this? You probably don't care… Never mind, tell you what: if you see… a quite tall guy with slightly curly chocolate brown hair, wearing a white shirt and probably looking quite angry… tell him I'm sorry. He'll know who you're talking about."

"I'm sure he's very sorry, too," the voice said.

Phil laughed an empty laugh and his eyes brimmed with tears and he turned away even further.

"And you'd know, would you?" He asked, somewhat bitterly, "You don't know our problem, you've probably never even had a friend like him, I-"

"Phil."

"I just need my friend back!-"

"Phil, it's me."

Phil was still suddenly and his eyes grew wide in surprise.  
He slowly turned to his left and gradually gazed upwards to see… standing right there in front of him with his hands behind his back…

Dan Howell.

" _D- Dan?"_

"Hello, Pal."


	31. The Smell of Warm

**A/N: I know I said I was taking a break, but I couldn't help but keep writing - this story has ruined me. You may or may not have noticed, but I've actually published a new story on my profile. It's only going to be a short one and I'll probably finish if before Outre, but it's called 'The Sick Bay' and it currently has two chapters. Go and check it out if you like, but of course you don't have to.  
Anyway, I hope you enjoy this kinda fluffy chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it.  
Ciao!  
-Whisker **

* * *

Dan Howell looked a mess – almost as much of a mess as Phil.

He looked tired; he had tearstains down his face and dark circles around his eyes. He didn't even smile as he met his friend's gaze, only averted his eyes to stare down at the ground. His lips were chapped and his hair was scruffy and curly, even more so than normal.

Phil swallowed, his own saliva stinging his throat, and his breath started to stagger.

"I… I'm sorry!" He bleated, practically springing from the chair and to his feet as he threw himself into his friend's arms, his joints making an unhealthy cracking noise from the sudden movement.

"I'm sorry, too," Dan said, blankly, keeping his arms at his sides.

"You forgive me, don't you?" Phil choked.

"You've done nothing wrong," Dan sighed, "It's… it's my fault."

"What?" Phil exclaimed, surprised, "No! No, it's not; I was the one who-"

"No, Phil, listen, I got it all wrong. Just… calm down and hear me out, alright?"

"…Alright..?"

"Look, I made a mistake. I must have made you think that _you'd_ done this, mustn't I? But you haven't: none of this is your fault. I said you'd done something to the software, didn't I?" And he sighed, shaking his head, regretfully.

Phil nodded and swallowed, burying his face into Dan's shoulder. He could smell the familiar scent his clothes always had. Phil would always describe it - much to Dan's confusion - as the scent of warm: safety... home.

"Look, that wasn't you," Dan continued, "It was me."

" _What?"_ Phil choked, his voice muffled, his eyes wide.

"I thought it'd be a good video idea. It was meant to be a surprise for you. Something must've gone wrong with the download file and did… this."

"But that's-"

"Impossible, I know. Thought we'd accepted that already?"

"I really thought you hated me…" Phil mumbled.

Dan bit his lip and finally put his arms around Phil. He felt… thin; he was skinny anyway, but today he just seemed _abnormally_ angular. His ribs felt like they were digging into him with every breath.

"I don't know what happened. I don't know what got into me," Dan sighed, staring ahead of him, "I hadn't remembered everything by then… I kind of just assumed it was you. I was too angry to even think straight… It was only after I left that I realised the truth."

"Then why didn't you come back?" Phil rasped. He didn't _sound_ well, never mind look it.

"I don't know…" Dan huffed, sounding annoyed with himself, "I just don't know… Maybe I thought you'd be mad at me. I wasn't going to come back at all at first, but when I saw you today, I just thought you looked so… broken."

"Dan…"

"I know! I know, I'm sorry! Please, forgive me, won't you?-"

"I forgive you, don't you worry about it," Phil hummed, pulling away from Dan's grip and standing for a moment.

This was the first time Dan had gotten a good look at his face, pale and scraped.

"What's this from..?" He asked in a whisper, placing his index and middle fingers gently on his friend's scar.

Phil flinched,

"Just… when I fell into the table," he replied.

"You mean when I _pushed_ you into the table?" Dan corrected.

"Well… yes," Phil nodded.

Dan hung his head,

"What have I done to you..?" He muttered, wistfully, before gazing back up, "And you've got a black eye, too."

"It's just a bruise."

"But _I_ gave you it, and that feels awful," Dan retorted, "You can hit me, too, if you want. I won't mind. I deserve it."

"No, you don't," Phil replied.

"Do it, I know you want to. As remorseless as you can."

"I couldn't. And even if I did, if I hit you, the cost would last forever."

Dan paused.

"Do you know how that felt? I thought I could never come back to you, and if I did, you'd be irate with me. And that would be the end of our friendship and the last thing I would have done would have been shout at you. You didn't deserve that. It was nothing that couldn't be resolved, but I guess I just lost control, I-"

Phil shook his head,

"It doesn't matter, it's nothing," he assured him, "All that matters is that you're back now. Nobody hates each other… right?"

"Right," Dan nodded, sheepishly.

Phil gave a melancholy smile and held out his arms for one last hug. He was happy to be together again. He'd decided not to tell Dan about his dream the night before – it was irrelevant now, anyway – it surely wouldn't make him feel any better.

"We should probably collect Dab from nursery," Phil mentioned, averting his eyes to gaze down the road, "He's been missing you: he kept asking where you were all yesterday, can't seem to get you off his mind. He'll be over the moon to see you again…"

Dan grinned, sliding his arm around his friend and gently laying his hand on his back. He was happy to be together again, too,

"We'll go, then," he said, "I'll be happy to see him, as well."

Phil looked to him, gave a heartfelt smile and put an arm around his shoulders, too, before they started to walk out of the park.

"You know, you probably would have just carried on in the end…" Dan sighed as they strolled along the main road, "You'd carry on, you're good at that. You'd pick yourself up again and you keep fighting, whether I was there or not."

"I don't think you understand, Dan," Phil said, reflectively, "It's as a very good friend of mine once said. Do you know what he said? He said, 'You don't get over these things, Phil, you learn to deal with them'. And you know what? You were probably right."


	32. Home Sweet Home

**A/N: This is kind of just a ramble, but I couldn't concentrate because I was too busy thinking about the next chapter of The Sick Bay, which should be up in a couple of days, if not tomorrow. Anyway, I have a few plans for the next chapter (fluff, anybody?) so yeah. Oh, and, also, my review... thing... isn't working so I don't get emails and the reviews don't really show up straight away so I might not be able to see any you have posted or will post until a few days later, so... yeah... Well, I'm gonna' go eat some cereal now. Ciao.  
-Whisker.**

* * *

"AN!"

That was the first thing Dab said when he walked out of the door of his nursery and saw Dan and Phil stood waiting for him, the widest of grins on their faces, arms still around each other's shoulders.

They knelt down as Dab hurried toward them as fast as he could and fell into Dan, face-planting his chest.

Phil gave a snigger as Dan ruffled the toddler's hair with a loving smile,

"Hello, there!" He said, "Sorry I was gone for a bit, kid."

"Why you go?" Dab asked, innocently, lifting his head and staring up at him with his big brown eyes.

"Uh…" Dan started, turning to Phil as if he was asking for help before clearing his throat, "It was nothing: Phil and I just had a bit of an argument and I went for a walk to… calm down."

Phil nodded,  
"But we're alright now," he continued, seeing Dab's worried face.

"Cut?" Dab questioned, pointing to Phil's scar and looking at Dan accusingly.

"Yes, I did that," Dan sighed, " _Accidentally_."

"It's fine, really it is," Phil assured them both, "I'm fine, we're all fine. Now, should we go home?"

Dab nodded, enthusiastically, standing up and letting Dan get to his feet again before he stretched up to grab his hand.

"Come on, then," Dan hummed as Phil got up to stand beside him.

The sun was bright still, as usual, and things were looking up for both Phil and Dan as they all made their way down the road.

It was a half-day at nursery for Dab today so the time was only just turning half past one.

None of them had eaten anything since breakfast so they ended up getting home twice as fast as normal, dying to finally have a proper meal at long last.

Dan's face seemed to light up as they neared the front door of the house, passing the llama hedge that he loved so much. But even though he seemed happy, there was a part of him that still felt guilty after hearing what Phil thought of him – he'd forgiven him, sure, but he couldn't tell if there was still a bitterness about him: you could never know with Phil.

"Well here we are!" Phil grinned, "Back home at last…" and he unlocked the door, ushering Dab and Dan inside.

Dan wiped his feet on the mat and stretched in the warmth – glad to be home again at last. It wasn't really home, of course, but he'd come to consider it as such recently. Anywhere where Phil was with him was home.

"Nice to be back inside again!" He grinned, casting a glance across to Phil, who gave a momentary smile.

"Must be," he agreed, "Now, take your shoes off and get changed – I'll start making dinner."

Dan did as he was told. There was an air about his friend that felt a bit strange; controlling, almost, like he'd become so stressed that he needed everything to be in order and felt the need to make sure everything was perfect.

But he unlaced his trainers, anyway, and set them down, neatly, in Dil's bedroom before changing his clothes (because he'd been wearing the same white shirt for three days) to a brown jumper with black shoulder patches to match his skinny jeans.

Giving a sigh and brushing himself down, he pushed open the bedroom door and peeked into Dab's room to see him sitting happily on his bed, playing with a purple toy llamacorn.

Dan smiled, contently, before putting his hands in his jean pockets and wandering into the living room where cushions and blankets were strewn about, messily, on the sofa – a clear indication of two restless nights.

"You haven't slept well, have you?" Dan murmured. "Wha-?" Phil started, jumping a bit because he hadn't realised Dan had walked into the room, "Oh… yeah, not great."

"Sorry."

"It's alright."

Dan scrunched up his nose in thought, shook his head and looked over to Phil, who was standing with his back against the breakfast bar, mug of tea in his hands.

"I'm not kidding, I feel awful," Dan said, bending his back and anxiously walking over to him.

"Don't do," Phil retorted, closing his eyes, "It was just a petty argument, nothing to worry about, rea-! Dan?"

But Dan didn't reply because he had wrapped his arms around his neck and gently laid his chin on his shoulder.

"You need to get over it, Dan," Phil sighed, trying not to spill his tea all over himself.

"Oh, I'm fine," Dan said, lifting his head momentarily, "I just thought you might need it."

Phil sniggered and gently put his cup on the bar behind him before patting Dan's back.

"I did," he replied, nodding, "Thanks."

"Something on your mind?"

"Oh, it's nothing-"

"No, go on."

"… Well…" Phil coughed, awkwardly, "Something… _strange_ happened last night and I think I should probably tell you about it…"


	33. Equal

**A/N: Hey! I think my review thing is working now because I got an email for once (though as far as I know, nobody has reviewed for a bit, so how should I know?). Anyway, I'm planning things for this story - we're going places, materios - so it shouldn't take me too long to write the next chapter. As for this one, it's really long, but I just thought we all needed some gentle domesticity after THE HORROR that is The Sick Bay (Sorry, not sorry...). So enjoy chapter 33 and have a lovely day/night. Ciao!  
-Whisker  
** **(P.S: I dreamt that I was riding a pony through a supermarket last night. Sorry, just needed to share that).**

* * *

"They did WHAT?!" Dan yelped, grabbing Phil by the shoulders and shaking him back and fourth, "How could they? I mean, I know Erica is _literally evil_ , but why on Earth would they want to harm-"

"Dan, calm down!" Phil begged. He in no way wanted a repeat of Thursday night and resolved to do whatever he could to prevent that.

"Why didn't you call the police? You could have stopped them, Phil, what was up with that?!" Dan continued, angrily.

"Snap out of it, Dan!" Phil hissed, and without thinking for a second, he swung a punch at his friend as hard as he could muster, knocking him away with a surprising amount of force he didn't know he had inside him.

Dan's jaw dropped open in a mixture of pain and surprise and he gingerly laid a hand on his cheek.

"Wow… OK…" he mumbled, clearing his throat, "I wasn't expecting that…" and he turned back to Phil, who was looking extremely shocked and disappointed in himself.

"…Sorry…" he said, quietly.

"Nah, it's alright, that was payback," Dan smiled, closing his eyes, "Glad you felt you could do that, actually," he mused, putting his hands back in his pockets and sitting down on the back of the sofa, "You stopped me; that was good."

Phil gave a shy grin back and coughed.

"It hurt, didn't it?" He mumbled.  
"It hurt just the right amount, thanks, mate," Dan replied, sniggering, "Don't worry about it."

They both were silent for a bit, not quite because of awkwardness, but more in just a moment of pure calm that surrounded them.

"We're equal," Phil said, eventually, after a good minute or two, before swivelling around and walking into the kitchen, "Put the TV on if you like, Dan. I'll start making dinner and if we're having a lazy day today, we might as well go all the way and eat in front of the television."

"Look, why don't you let me do the cooking, Phil?" Dan offered, practically springing to his feet in the hopes of helping out in some way.

"If you really want to…" Phil replied, slightly surprised for some reason, "I guess you could…"

Dan hurried over to him, nodded his head, enthusiastically, and took him by the sleeve.

"Hey, why don't you go and get changed and have a lie down? You've done a lot for the past couple of days, after all," he suggested, giving his friend a pat on the back and gently pushing him towards the bedroom door.

Phil agreed, slightly confusedly, and stumbled his way to Dil's bedroom.

Dan decided he would utilise this opportunity and create the best meal _ever_ , so he bounded back over to the kitchen and opened the fridge… that he discovered was almost empty, save from a milk carton and some cheese. The vegetable drawer was full, though – though maybe that said a bit about their life-styles.

Perhaps cooking was a bit implausible.

Dan frowned – 'What could he make that was nice and didn't require actually doing anything?' he wondered.

Then he had a great idea.

Pizza.

You can never go wrong with pizza – especially when you eat in on the sofa, in front of the TV – so he took his phone from his pocket and (with the last bit of battery life he had) called… whatever the Sims equivalent of Dominoes was.

Of course, this was a very lazy thing to do, and he felt like he had to do something nice for his friend after what he'd done to him, so he decided to tidy up.

Everything was thrown about all over the place and, not only would tidying resolve that, but it would also maybe help him find out how Phil had been feeling over the past few days.

As he set about arranging the cushions on the sofa, he thought.

He still couldn't reason any motive Erica and Eliza would possibly have, thinking it was a good idea to try and kidnap Dab.

Phil had explained, of course, what Eliza had said, but could _she_ really be trusted?

As far as Dan could make out, Erica just wanted revenge and convinced Eliza to help her out. According to Mrs Pancakes herself, she'd hoped that Dil would come to rescue his son, but sacrificing his freedom and staying with her forever.

Thankfully, even though he hadn't had the nerve (or maybe even the time) to call the police, Phil had managed to stop them and nobody got hurt, so that was all OK.

But this situation only dug Erica and Eliza into an even deeper hole of hatred that they were probably never getting out of.

Not that Dan really _hated_ anybody, but this was _his_ – virtual – family they were messing with here, and he wasn't having that.

"I thought you were cooking," Phil's voice came from behind him all of a sudden, and Dan stood up straight in surprise, turning around to face him.

"Oh, I ordered pizza," he replied with a smile, "Hope you didn't have anything in mind?"

"No, of course not," Phil said, shaking his head and buttoning up his collar.

"How are you finding all of these check shirts?!" Dan asked. He was genuinely confused.

Phil sniggered,  
"That wardrobe's like Narnia; every item of clothing available is in there," he answered, and he wasn't joking.

"I'm not even going to ask," Dan sighed, "I like this one, though: black and white, very my aesthetic."

"You know, I thought so," Phil agreed, "What's up with your leather-shouldered grandpa jersey?"

"Hey, don't dis my jumper!" Dan retorted with a short laugh.

Phil gave a smirk but didn't laugh back. Dan still couldn't tell if there was a bit of sullenness there even now.

"Hey, what's up, mate?" He asked, still cheery, "Thought you said we were equal now?"

"We are, why are you asking?"

"You seem sulky. Tired?"

"Yeah…"

"Did you not have that lie down I told you to take?"

"Well, I heard you talking and thought you were going insane, didn't I? Why else do you think I appeared beside you, all Slender-esque?" Phil rejoined.

"Alright, Philly, calm down," Dan hummed, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder, "Sit down and relax for a second, alright? You're probably just worn-out from all the childcare I abandoned you with," and he patted his arm before heading over to clear the table.

"You don't have to clean," Phil said, quietly, hugging his knees as he sat down on the sofa arm.

"No, I have to, it's annoying me," Dan hummed, gathering together a small stack of paper from the day before. He saw what was on top of the pile and suddenly looked very surprised indeed, "What's this?" He asked, holding it up and turning to Phil, whose face fell.

"Oh, it's nothing!" He stammered. It was his pre-occupied, half-hearted drawing of Dan that Mr Howell had just so happened to notice.

"You really missed-"

But before Dan could continue, Phil sprang to his feet and grabbed the paper from his hands, scrunching it up into a ball before spinning around and throwing it with expert precision into the bin next to the breakfast bar.

"…There…" he coughed, awkwardly, dusting his hands off, "That's all. Let's forget all about that, OK?"

"Phil…"

"Shush!" Phil sniggered, his cheeks flushing and showing up his scar, that Dan had only noticed the severity of.

"Look, sit back down, we need to do something about that gouge on your cheek," he muttered, putting two fingers over it.

"It's not a _gouge_!"

"Yes, yes it is, it's like a hole and if you don't cover it, you're going to get an infection, now sit down and I'll get a cloth and we'll clean you up…"


	34. It's 'Just a Graze'

"Stop flinching!"

"It's not my fault it stings!" Phil whined as Dan gave a frown and sat back a bit,

"Look, if you don't stop being fidgety, we're just going to be sat here longer," he huffed, "Just sit still-"

They were both sat on the sofa, facing each other, cross-legged, Dan attempting to get Phil to stay in place for more than one second as he cleaned out his wound.

"It won't get infected, it's just a graze!" Phil insisted, looked away to the window so Dan couldn't get to him.

Dan sighed and folded his arms at his friend's stubbornness.

"Oh, hey, what's that?" He asked, suddenly, pointing over to the table and sounding very surprised. Of course, Phil fell for it and turned around to his left, letting Dan get to that side of his face.

" _OW_!" He winced, recoiling as Dan wiped the edge of his scar with a cloth coated in soap. It stung like lemons being poured into his face so he couldn't help but fidget.

"Stop being so squirmy!" Dan glowered, holding Phil around his shoulders to keep him in place like he was trying to get a cat to stay in a bath.

Phil gave a short snigger and closed his eyes, sitting still at last.

"Sorry, Dan," he replied with a smirk, "Just trying to make it difficult for you."

"Look, pal; I don't want to be catering to you all week – sure, you're older, but I'm not your servant, Philly."

"Dan-"

"You know, when you used to be my Internet senpai when I was a teenager, and when I used to lie in my sad little bedroom watching your videos, I never thought I'd one day be sat on a sofa, cleaning scratches from your face while you fidgeted like a mouse," Dan said, putting the cloth down and smiling a bit.

Phil looked to him from the edge of his eye,

"Are you complaining?" He asked, "I thought you were enjoying being friends again?"

Dan couldn't help but smile back.

"I'd be enjoying it more if you weren't twitching," he retorted – though he was only joking… a little bit – and he picked up a plaster from the box beside him and peeled the backing off to gently place it over phil's scar.

He was about to continue his sentence, but a brisk knocking at the front door cut him off.

"Oooh!" Phil chirped, his ears metaphorically pricking up.

"Pizza, pizza, pizza – pizza, pizza pizza!" Dan sang to the tune of 'Rave Time', springing to his feet and going to answer the door, "Hellooooo!" He grinned to the pizza deliveryman, who looked back at him, a bit confusedly.

The deliveryman handed him the pizza box, held his hand out for the money – of which Dan gave to him, of course – and swiftly turned to leave.

"Right, that was a bit awkward," Dan coughed, turning around and closing the door with his foot, "Anyway, you go and get Dab and I'll set the table..."

* * *

7PM, The Howlter Household, Potters' Splay, Willow Creek, Somewhere.

Dan gave a yawn as he walked out of Dab's bedroom, a confused expression on his face.

Phil stared up to him from his comfy position on the sofa, wrapped in a blanket and looking very sleepy. Around his legs were piles of cushions and pillows and on the floor were a box of plasters and a bottle of antiseptic cream next to an empty coffee mug.

"Are you alright there, Dan?" Phil asked.

"I'm fine…" Dan replied, "Dab just said something really weird to me…"  
"Oh, really?"

"Yeah, he said 'Did you come back because you saw the poster?'. Don't know what that was all about."

Phil sniggered, remembering the story he read a few nights ago.

"Children have strange imaginations," he replied, "It's probably something he's read."

Dan shrugged and moved some of the cushions so he could sit down next to him and drag the end of the blanket over his legs that he had folded up underneath him. He turned to Phil and gave a half-smile.

"Your plaster's peeling off…" he observed, smoothing it back before yawning again and putting his arm around his friend's shoulders and pulling him to his side, "Sorry again," he sighed.

"For what?" Phil frowned, "Getting into an argument? These things happen, Dan; pull yourself together."

"I know, I know…" Dan mumbled, "It's just… You hadn't been… _well_ before that, I only added to it."

"Look at me! I'm completely fine!" Phil laughed, giving a wide smile.

"There's something you're not telling me," Dan continued, shaking his head, "I can tell."

"Don't be ridiculous, Dan; why would I be keeping anything a secret?"

"…Oh, I don't know… You just seemed a bit quiet."

Phil decided not to tell him about the weird feeling in his chest he'd had yesterday… or at least not yet.

He put his hand on Dan's back (just to show he wasn't holding a grudge against him) and took his phone out of his pocket with his other hand to absent-mindedly scroll through his camera roll, of which consisted mostly of his and Dan's selfies.

"My battery life is about to die…" he mused, "What should I do with the last bit?"

"Oh! I have an idea!" Dan chirped, ecstatically, taking the phone out of Phil's hand.

"What?" Phil asked, looking slightly confused.

"You'll see…" Dan chirped, smirking a bit before he eventually leaned over Phil's shoulder to show him the screen as he pressed play.

 _"Why do you always make cat whiskers on your face?"_


	35. Tête-à-Tête

Dab Howlter was not looking forward to his parents coming home.

As soon as Dil and Tabitha would come back, he wouldn't be able to play around with Phil and Dan anymore – or at least that's what he believed – and his fun little week would be over.

In-between Phil's… petulant moments… they'd had a fairly good time making squareflakes and glitter faces and telling stories.

Now it was Sunday morning, his parents were due home in a few hours and Dan had insisted that they all look their best, so now he was in the bath.

Dan was with him, of course – you don't just leave toddlers unsupervised in the bath – and doing his best to wash his hair.

Dan sighed and gave a short snigger,

"If you cover your eyes, it won't be that bad," he said, putting his elbow on his knee, a blue plastic jug in his left hand, filled with water. He didn't want to put up with Dab being all fidgety, too, after he'd had to deal with Phil the day before.

"Soap!" Dab frowned, pouting. Like all children, he hated getting shampoo in his face.

"I know, I know, just cover your eyes!" Dan insisted, filling the jug with water again to try once more to rinse the suds out.

They'd been here for half an hour already.

It was still early in the morning – around seven o'clock – and the sun was shining in through the bathroom window (of which was uncomfortably placed above the bath).

Phil was still fast asleep on the sofa in the lounge. It was the first time he'd slept well in a good two nights and Dan wasn't about to be uncaring and wake him up, so it was up to him to get Dab ready for when Dil and Tabitha would return. He'd insisted on everyone looking their finest and so took it upon himself to make everything perfect. It was only fair for him to do some work for once, after all.

"Look, it's almost all out, so it'll have to do. You can get dressed now…" he continued, standing up and putting the jug down next to the bath, picking up a towel from the rail and laying it on top of the pile of clothes on the floor, "I'll leave you to get dressed, alright?" and he walked out of the room.

As he entered the living room, he met Phil's gaze from the settee. His head was rested on the arm of the chair and he still looked tired.

"Good morning!" Dan smiled, gently.

"Hello…" Phil yawned. He'd only just woken up a minute or two ago, "Aren't the rest of the family coming home today?" He asked.

"They certainly are," Dan nodded, "And I'm trying to make sure everything is just right! Thought we should all look our best, so I've just washed Dab's hair and given him a shirt and trousers to wear. I'm going to get into a suit but I don't know about you…"

"Don't you think that's just a bit formal?" Phil coughed, sitting up straight and running a hand through his fringe.

"We want to make it look like everything went swimmingly," Dan replied, "Try not to look… depressed."

Phil flashed him a grin,

"Maybe you should just stick to a shirt and tie," he said, "Smart, but not too serious."

"Good idea," Dan agreed, "Now, do you want a coffee?"

"We don't have a coffee machine."

"Oh yeah… Well, in that case, would you like some tea?"

"Yeah, go on, then; thanks, Dan."

"No problem!" And he switched the tea maker on, "You know, when they come back, we're going to have to step up our investigating game and start finding a way home again."

"Yeah…" Phil muttered, standing up, "We're going to have to go for a walk and explore, aren't we?"

"We'll have to start thinking logically, too," Dan said, turning to him with a tender smile, "But don't worry about it, OK? We can do this."

"For once, I believe you," Phil answered, walking over to him, "For some reason, I think that after our little break, we can come back to this with fresh minds. Tomorrow we'll go for a walk, have a think, put our heads together and we'll figure something out. It's not too bad, though; I'm getting to like it down here, you know?"

"Me, too. Though I'd much rather be at home," Dan admitted, "But I know what you mean," and he held his arms out, "Now c'mere, Philly."


	36. To Fold in Arms

"Surprise!"

" _Surprise_!"

"Supwise!"

Dil and Tabitha stood in the doorway, their suitcases in hand, looking very surprised at the sudden appearance of their two house-guests and son, dressed smartly in shirts and suit trousers, enthusiastically greeting them.

"Welcome home!" Dan grinned, holding Dab in his arms and Dab clinging to his side.

"Thanks," Tabitha smiled with a laugh.

"No problem," Phil replied, "Thought we'd give you a warm reception back!"

"How was it without us?" Dil asked, propping his suitcase up against the wall as he closed the front door behind them, "Did you manage alright?"

"We managed… OK…" Phil nodded. It wasn't _really_ a lie: the house didn't set on fire and nobody was dead so technically everything had been fine.

"That's good, we were starting to worry about you after a day or two," Tabitha mentioned, "But we were also sure you could handle everything – you both seem quite capable. How are you all, anyway?"

"We're good," Dan said, turning to Phil with a shy smile.

"Had a bit of a strange run-in, but I'll tell you about that another time. How have _you two_ been? Enjoy your holiday?"

"We certainly did," Dil nodded, "I spent our free time watching your whole Sims series on my phone; you guys are so great!"

Dan and Phil both gave awkward laughs,

"Glad you think so," Dan said, putting Dab down on the floor so he could greet his parents.

"I think you two deserve a break after all of the work you've done," Dil smiled, addressing Phil and Dan, "So we thought we'd give you some cash so you could both go and have a nice relaxing time at the spa. How does that sound?"

"That sounds great!" Dan exclaimed, cheerily.

Phil nodded his agreement,

"I could do with some R&R, too," he chirped.

"Well, why don't you two go and do that whilst Dil and I get settled again?" Tabitha suggested, kindly, patting her child on the head.

Dan immediately acceded and hurriedly made sure everybody was comfortable, making cups of tea for his friends as quickly as he could because the faster he could get everyone settled, the faster he could go and relax with some cucumbers over his eyelids.

Dil and Tabitha seemed very grateful for their help and happily handed over some spare cash and waved them out of the door.

It was a chilly day outside but still sunny. Not as cold as the other day when they'd taken Dab down to Magnolia Promenade, but still not warm.

"Come on, then, off we go," Dan smiled, cheerily, as they started along the road down to the spa.

Phil had taken the plaster off his cheek just before they left the house and thankfully neither of his sims had noticed or been bothered to ask questions.

His scar had healed a bit overnight after Dan had cleaned it out and it didn't look too bad anymore. It wasn't so much a scrape as it was a gouge – like a little hole – but it was mending pretty fast.

As he and Dan made their way along the path, they spied a familiar face across the road from them, walking the other direction. A figure they knew too well with red hair, a green blouse and black-rimmed glasses resting on the bridge of their nose.

Dan and Phil considered turning the other way and going the long way around but Dan reasoned that purposefully avoiding Eliza might only make the conflict worse.

They made a bit of awkward eye contact with her, but apart from that, they managed to steer clear of her. They were on a mission to have a nice relaxing afternoon and not even an encounter with their crazy stalker was going to bring down their mood.

And they carried on.

They acted as if nothing had ever happened: no disagreement, no fight – nothing. And maybe they were better off after their dispute; they actually seemed even closer.

Because the thing about most situations is that you don't realise what you have until it's gone, and if you can get that thing back, you become finally grateful and recognise what you have.

Friendship is one of the worst things to lose; both Phil and Dan acknowledged that. They were fortunate to be back together again, they knew, and even though they didn't say it, they were both filled with a feeling of euphoria.

Even as they just walked down the street, they kept close to keep each other warm.

And in that moment of togetherness but also being alone, that was when they trusted in each other at last. And all it had really taken was a few reassuring hugs and a hand on the back to make them happy again.

But not just as some people define happiness, you see, because happiness is a hard thing to put into words.

Happiness is what happens when you feel alone and sad and you know you've done something you shouldn't have, and you're desperately sorry, but a friend comes along and wraps you in their arms and tells you it's OK - that you don't have to worry - that they forgive you.

It's the feeling of those arms around you and the gentle comfort as you find yourself smelling that familiar smell that they always have and always have had: the smell of that one laundry detergent they've used for years that you can only smell on them: the smell of warm, some might put it…

And just that reaching, that gesture, the impulse of wanting to have what's warm close to you – whether that be something or someone – and the feeling you get when you do that is a feeling of being safe; safe in a familiar surrounding that you've grown to know and love.

That's happiness.


	37. Tranquility

The spa, when Phil and Dan got there, looked just as impressive and immaculate as Chez Llama. Even just the pathway leading up to it was decorated with all sorts of ornamental features meant to relax: strange spherical water fountains on either side of a plant pot, floating on a platform in the middle of a small pool with lights at the corners (which Phil would describe as 'mega fancy'), glass railings at the sides of the patio, a huge water feature on the wall beside them - looking through into a room lit mostly by candlelight - and leafy green bamboo trees to the left, casting a nice shadow down onto the veranda.

Only, for people like Dan, things that made places look more upmarket and classy just made him feel like he shouldn't be there.

Though, however out-of-place he felt, he couldn't help but be strangely calmed by the delicate lighting and quiet sound of water trickling into the pool.

As he and Phil stepped into the building, being met with more water features and a modern desk decorated with flickering candles and glasses of flavoured water, they were both instantaneously washed over with an air of serenity; probably something to do with the candles.

There was a doorway to their right and a walkway to a small room with a settee and two fancily lit tables ahead of them, but they opted to explore through the door.

They could vaguely remember the layout from the time they sent Dil and Tabitha, so they _hopefully_ wouldn't get lost.

It was also pretty quiet today at the spa – nobody was really around, not even staff – and that only added to the feel of 'should we be here?' – but at least they weren't being bombarded by people who smelled of eucalyptus trying to offer them hand massages.

"What's first?" Phil asked, his voice hushed. He felt as if he ought to be quiet because of how tranquil the whole place was.

Dan could loosely remember having to change into bathrobes before anything else, so they headed to do that.

Even the changing rooms were empty, but at least they had their privacy that way.

The robes were fluffy, warm, smelled of freshly washed linen and felt as if they'd only just come out of the drier, stainlessly clean.

Dan gave a happy smile as the downy fabric brushed against him like a furry cat rubbing itself all over his arms. He was just about ready to have a nice lie down on a massage bed with stones placed delicately on his spine when he heard voices from behind him and he turned round in a moment of surprise to see two guys who looked like they were regulars here, chattering away to each other.

He recognised them both but couldn't quite remember their names; he'd seen them before, though, he was sure.

"Hello there!" He smiled as they all made awkward eye contact. He didn't know whether it was ill-mannered to talk to people in changing rooms, and thinking back he decided he probably should have just waved instead, but he did anyway.

The two guys didn't seem to mind, though, and both gave friendly smiles back to him.

"Haven't seen you here before," one said. He looked a bit like Dil but with brown skin and a black balbo-style beard. He appeared nice and sociable, and so did his friend.

"Oh, yeah, first time I've been, really…" Dan replied, his hands behind his back, "Here with my friend, actually," and he looked around to turn to Phil – but he didn't seem to be around.

Dan frowned,

" _Where's he gone..?"_ He muttered to himself, "Phil?"

Phil pocked his head around the doorframe, appearing a bit confused,

"Yes, Dan?" He hummed, stepping forward and rolling the ends of his robe sleeves up a bit.

"Where were you?" Dan asked.

"Oh, I was just hanging about," Phil replied before noticing the two men standing in front of Dan, "Oh, hello, there!" He grinned, warmly, "I'm Phil and this is Dan, by the way."

Dil's look-alike gave a quiet laugh and put his hands in his pockets,

"I'm Zion," he said, cheerily.

"I'm Mitchell," his friend added, "Maybe we'll see you around sometime, yeah?"

"Yeah, maybe," Dan nodded, dragging Phil towards him by the sleeve, "Anyway, we've got to be going now, have a… nice, relaxing afternoon," and they headed back into the hall whilst Mitchell and Zion watched, a bit confusedly.

" _You've got to stop introducing yourself to random people_ ," Dan sighed.

"Hey, I was just being friendly!" Phil sniggered, "We're here to be cheery and peaceful, right?"

"Right…" Dan replied, sounding a bit tired but still smiling as he led him up the stairs.

After their stressful week, Phil and Dan both agreed that a back massage would help them to relax.

The treatment room they found first had two beds beside each other and two therapists stood beside them, reading some sort of pamphlets. The whole thing was supposed to last an hour and a half – that's over a whole hour of somebody rubbing their hands all over your back. Theoretically, it was supposed to be relaxing, so Dan and Phil needlessly introduced themselves and lay down.

To their surprise, it was, actually, quite calming; and not only that, it gave them time to think some more. They couldn't discuss their thoughts with each other, of course, but they were both beginning to piece things together…

New ideas and theories were popping up in their minds – 'what ifs' and new speculations – most were discarded due to being too far-fetched or just plain daft, but there was one idea that was playing in Dan's mind that he just couldn't get rid of.

Dan had always found that, whenever everything was quiet and all distractions were removed, he'd find himself down rabbit holes, his imagination going deep into thought, and that's when he'd come up with all his best ideas.

He had a notion today and he was itching to find out if his suspicion was correct. He wouldn't tell Phil just yet; he'd wait until they were outside again and drag him along to test his theory, but this one idea… it was ingenious.


	38. The Forest

"Wow, I feel so refreshed!" Dan grinned when he and Phil stepped out of the spa and into the sunlight again.

"Me, too," Phil agreed, "Hey, at least you didn't fall over this time, eh, Dan?" He teased.

Dan frowned but he couldn't stay annoyed at him for long,

"I'm still not over that," he sighed.

"Sorry," Phil sniggered, putting his hands in his pockets in that weird way that always made his hand look like a claw.

"Anyway," Dan started, "Isn't it sunny all of a sudden? Why don't we make the most of it and go for a walk?"

"I was just going to suggest that!" Phil replied, cheerily, "Where is there to go, though?"

"I have an idea," Dan hummed, starting to wander down the road, "It might not work, but I need to try it out somewhere…"

"Oh? What kind of idea?" Phil asked, hurrying to follow him.

"You'll see…" Dan answered, a sly smile on his face.

Phil looked at him with an expression that could only be described as concern, but carried on beside him anyway. He bit his lip for a second but decided that having an explore couldn't hurt, so gave a yawn and he and Dan wandered further down the road.

He had no idea where they were going.

* * *

As it turned out, Dan escorted him all the way to the forest a way behind Pendula View and Hallow Slough; that forest at the edge of Willow Creek that stretched on even further than the end of the map.

Dan had noticed it as they were walking to the spa and it had stuck in his mind the whole time they had been inside; there was something about its entrance and the fact that nobody ever entered that piqued his interest. He just had a suspicion about it and he didn't know why…

So, of course, he dragged Phil to it and rubbed his hands together as they arrived.

"What on earth are we doing here?" Phil asked, confusedly, tilting his head to the side in uncertainty.

"As I say, I had an idea," Dan replied, simply as he peered through the trees and down the gravel path leading down the middle, "It's just a theory, but it can't hurt to test it out."

"Care to be a bit more specific?"

"Well, it's a tad difficult to explain, so you'll just have to come with me…" and he began to wander into the woods.

Phil watched him go for a short while before begrudgingly following him, even though he was a bit cautious of this whole 'idea'. He wasn't tense as such, just on his guard – there was something up with the forest that felt… wrong. He'd had a strange habit (as long as he'd been in the Sims universe, at least) of knowing when something was amiss, and now he was getting a 'feeling' again.

He'd gotten the same feeling when Erica had turned up at the door a few nights ago and just before he'd met her first in the supermarket on Monday; he'd even felt it in his dream.

It was a strange feeling: it started as a shiver and a sensation of light-headedness before turning into sharp, stabbing pain in his chest along with an even more violent shaking.

He was feeling wobbly right now.

"Are you sure this is safe, Dan?" He asked, warily, as they both made their way further into the trees.

"Of course it is," Dan assured him, pulling him to his side, "All I want to do is investigate something. Why; are you alright?"

"I don't really know," Phil replied, "I mean, I'm not ill, but I get this… _feeling_ sometimes, when something's not right, you know? I'm getting it now…"

"Well, in that case, if you think something's up, my theory might very well be correct…" Dan said, gently, rubbing his friend's arm, comfortingly, "If I _am_ correct, then, mid way through this forest, the map will end. Where the map ends, if I'm right, there should be a wall stopping us – an invisible wall, if that makes it easier to understand – and that will be the _end of the world_ … if you will."

Phil swallowed and drew in a long breath before sharply exhaling, staring up into the leaves above them.

The forest was dark, as the verdant branches of the trees made a sort of canopy above them and the only light was the sunshine that managed to slip through the gaps in the foliage and shine down onto the path below. It was a pretty sight, sure, but it also had an air of obscurity to it, and that was what was giving Phil his 'feeling'.

Maybe Dan was right in what he thought: the idea seemed logical, at least, and being impossible was hardly a problem, as they'd come to recognise already. But even if there _was_ a wall surrounding them and confining everyone to this universe, what were they going to do about it? It's not like there'd be an invisible door, too, that they could just walk on through and-

This was when they suddenly stopped.

"I think we might have found it…" Dan whispered, gazing ahead, open-mouthed.

There, right ahead of them, was the end of the path. And ahead of the end of the path there was a gap in the trees. Through the gap in the trees there was a circular patch of grass with a ray of sunlight cast down in the middle of it. And ahead of that were even more trees, but trees that seemed slightly different – blurry, maybe.

It was only when they slipped through the gap and into the light that they saw that the rest of the forest stretched on beyond lay behind a huge, reflective, transparent wall.

Dan swallowed and let go of Phil to slowly walk towards it and lay his hand on the glassy surface. It was like a window.

He turned back around to Phil, an expression of disbelief on his face, and they both held eye contact for a few seconds before he dropped his hand back to his side.

"Well done," Phil said, quietly, "You were right…"

Dan blinked once at him before averting his eyes to the trees beyond the barrier that stretched on beyond what the eye could see; so far, in fact, that you couldn't see the end of it – it just kind of blurred away in the mist that was settled amongst them, very far away.

"Let's go back," Dan decided, turning around and shaking his head, apathetically, as he made his way back, over.

"What? Why?" Phil asked, surprised, "We found what's keeping us here, why are we leaving?"  
"We need time," Dan answered him, stopping in front of him, "What if something went wrong whilst we were here? Nobody would know where we'd gone. We don't even know if we can get out this way. Besides, we're not done here," and he took Phil around the shoulders to lead him away.

"What do you mean?" Phil asked, still slightly bewildered.

"You're still stressed, aren't you? I can tell. A lot has happened recently, so I can't say I blame you," Dan smiled, softly, "Look, things are moving fast, so let's slow down a bit. We'll take some time to relax; would that help?"

Phil nodded.

"So we stay for a few days yet: after all, our family needs us, don't they?" Dan continued.

"Yeah," Phil agreed with a ginger grin, "They do. And I wouldn't want to leave them without saying goodbye…"

"Come on, then, off we go."

"What do we tell them?"

"Nothing. Not yet, at least. Let's keep this a secret, shall we? We'd only make them anxious. We'll come back to this later, okay? But for now… let's go home."


	39. Everyone's Okay Isn't That Right?

"Hey, guys; you were out for a while," Dil greeted Phil and Dan as they stepped through the door. He was stood in the kitchen, washing the plates from dinner time, "Did you fall asleep in a mud bath or something?"

"We just went for a bit of a walk," Dan smiled back, closing the door behind him, "Making the most of the weather, you know?"

"Oh, did you? Where did you go?" Dil asked.

"Nowhere much," Phil replied, unlacing his shoes. He and Dan had resolved not to tell anyone about their discovery until they were sure that it could help them in some way.

"Well, I'm glad you enjoyed your… walk," Dil started, picking up a tea towel and beginning to dry the plates, "We haven't done much while you were out – you kept the house very nice and clean."

"Yeah, we tried," Dan answered, looking across to Phil and giving a gentle smile. Phil didn't make eye contact, just picked up his trainers and straightened his fringe.

"Anyway, how was your spa experience?" Dil asked.

"It was… relaxing," Phil replied, wandering across into the bedroom, "Very… spa-y."

"I'm not sure that's a word, but I know what you mean," Dil mumbled, raising an eyebrow.

This was when Tabitha wandered into the room from the bathroom and gave a friendly smile to everyone,

"Oh, hello," she grinned, "I didn't hear you two come through the door."

"Didn't you? We were quite loud," Dan laughed, "How are you?"

"I'm good, thanks, Dan," Tabitha replied, cheerily, "You?"

"Very good."

"Great – I forgot to ask earlier so I'll ask now, but what exactly did you do for the five days we were away? Must have been difficult to keep Dab entertained for that long…"

"Not really," Dan rejoined, quickly, "Uh, it was Phil, really, who did most of the work; he's been doing a very good job for this whole time and, frankly, I'm quite impressed."

"What's that?" Phil put in, poking his head around the bedroom doorframe, "I heard my name – are you talking about me?"

Dan nodded,

"We are, indeed," he said, "I was just saying how well you've managed things on your own- I mean, not on your own, on _our_ own… us both… on our own… you managed."  
Phil cleared his throat and gave a shy laugh, stepping into the room, unbuttoning his collar.

"Glad you noticed," he chirped, "I've been working hard. Dan helped, too, of course."

"Well, well done to both of you," Tabitha marvelled, "It takes a lot of effort to keep children amused for that long. I don't know how you did it, I really don't; you both just seem to have a way with him. I almost wish you didn't have to leave and you could just stay and baby-sit for us."

Phil and Dan both awkwardly laughed in unison; they didn't particularly feel like leaving, either, but they knew that they had to at some point.

Spending as much time as possible with their virtual family was top priority right now. If anything _did_ happen to go wrong when they tried to break through the barrier, they'd want to know that they did all they could here beforehand and hadn't left anything unfinished.

"Besides the point, Phil," Tabitha started again, "I found this mark on the edge of the table, what's that from?"

Phil tipped his head to the side and wandered over to the dining table to see what on earth she was talking about and discovered, on the pointed edge nearest the living room, a brown – almost red, in fact – stain. He knew what it was from and hurriedly scraped it off with his thumbnail before licking his finger, wiping the rest off and rubbing it dry with his sleeve.

"That… is… nothing. It's nothing. Just dirt," he coughed. It wasn't, in fact, 'just dirt', but he wasn't about to tell Dil and Tabitha about his and Dan's… _fight_ a few days before.

Dan looked equally as concerned at this and a returning feeling of guilt washed over him. He got it almost every time he remembered what he'd done, even though he knew for certain he'd been fully forgiven.

"Uh, anyhow," he hawed, walking over to lean his elbows on the breakfast bar, "Have we got any plans for tomorrow?"

"Not as of yet," Dil replied, "Did you have anything in mind?"

"Oh, nothing much," Dan said with a shake of his head, "Just thought we should all spend some time together before we have to-…"  
"Pardon?"

"Nothing."

"Are you alright? Did you run into Eliza on your walk?"

"No, no, I'm fine, Phil's fine, we're all fine."

"Are you sure?"  
"Certain. Isn't that right, Phil?"

Phil nodded back to him, but he seemed to take a while to respond, as if he didn't _know_ whether everyone was OK.

"Well, in that case, I suppose we could all sit down and have a family afternoon, couldn't we?" Dil suggested.

"Sounds good to me," Dan agreed.

He knew what was up: things were moving so fast everybody was getting confused. With the discovery of the barrier, there was a chance that they could be leaving everything… that was a good thing, of course: they could go back to their 'real' families and their 'real' home and their YouTube career…

But they didn't _want_ to leave.


	40. A 'Family Evening'

Choosing what do about the barrier and how much longer to stay in this world were decisions that were proving very hard to make.

On one hand, if they left, Phil and Dan would be back in London again and could get back to normal and everything would be hunky-dory, yet on the other hand, if they left, they'd probably never be able to come back and see Dil, Tabitha and Dab ever again, and they were getting quite attached; maybe too much so.

The other question left unanswered was how long to wait before telling their Sims about the barrier.

Dan and Phil had discussed it, of course, for a while already as they walked home earlier, but they hadn't decided on anything. Maybe they didn't _want_ to decide and _that_ was the problem, but even if that was the case, they couldn't avoid making a decision forever and sooner or later somebody was going to find out and _then_ they'd be in trouble.

At this current moment in time, they and the Howlters were having their 'family evening together', as Dil had suggested earlier. This consisted of mostly watching television before they got bored of that they managed to find some playing cards.

None of them were very good at cards, so that idea was discarded after a couple of failed games and now everybody sat in silence, on the floor, around the coffee table.

Dan was staring, absent-mindedly, into the fish bowl, watching Jonathan the minnow swim around and just generally thinking about life as Phil leaned back on his shoulder and shuffled the card deck (he'd been doing this for a good ten minutes).

Dil and Tabitha were busying themselves… thinking… and Dab was eating cereal because somehow it was getting late really quickly and nobody had seemed to notice apart from Dab himself, who, of course, jumped at any opportunity to eat.

Phil gave a sigh and looked up around the room at everyone's bored faces. This idea hadn't worked quite as well as they had expected.

He shuffled the cards one last time, turned around to face Dan and fanned them out in front of him.

"Pick a card," he said, flatly, "Any card."

Dan would usually decline this offer, but he was too jaded to refuse this time, so he picked a card from around the middle of the fan and looked at it (the 7 of spades) before sliding it back to the bottom of the deck.

Phil gave a smirk, collected together the cards into a nice, neat pile and laid them on the table.

"Go ahead and split them yourself," he offered.

Dan did as told, split the deck four times and looked back to Phil, expectantly.

"I'll find your card now," Phil smiled, turning the cards upside-down and spreading them out, face up on the table before swiftly picking out the 7 of spades, "Is this it?" He asked.

Dan nodded and a collective 'ooh!' came from his 'audience', who were clearly quite impressed. Dan was also impressed because it was one of the first times his trick had ever worked.

"You'll have to teach me how to do that some time," Dil chirped, "You know; to impress people at parties."

"Since when do you go to parties?" Dan scoffed.

"Uh… Well, I'll have to start going to parties. After I've mastered a few card tricks, that is," Dil replied.

"We'll have to throw a house party when you find out how you can get home," Tabitha suggested, cheerily, "As a celebration, you know?"

Phil's face fell,

"Yeah… we will…" he coughed, uncomfortably. Just as he felt he'd torn his thoughts away from all this 'barrier' malarkey, of course somebody had to go and mention it again. The whole situation was playing on his mind so much so that he felt that he should just tell everyone right there and then; spit it out and get it over with. But, of course, he'd need Dan's permission before he went ahead and did _that_.

"Anyway, besides the point, it's getting pretty late, I should go and put Dab to bed," Tabitha continued, standing up and taking her son's hand, "Come on, Dab…" and they walked away into the bedroom.

Phil swallowed, put the cards down, neatly, on the table and tapped Dan on the shoulder.

"Hmm?" Dan hummed, concerned, "What's up, pal?"

Phil leaned over to whisper in his ear,

 _"We need to talk,"_ he hissed, _"Stand up a minute."_

Dan stood up and flashed a quick glace to Dil, who was looking a bit mystified.

"Can we just… have a minute?" He asked. Not that he needed permission, but Dil nodded his approval anyway and Dan led Phil over to the kitchen to talk.

 _"What's wrong?"_ He asked, quietly, gently placing a hand on his shoulder.

 _"I think we should tell them,"_ Phil replied, _"What's the use in keeping it secret any longer?"_

 _"They might want us to leave straight away – I thought we were staying for a bit?"_

 _"I'm sure they won't want us to leave straight away. At the least, we should only tell one of them. If we try and keep it secret any longer, I know I'm only going to end up blurting it out sometime. Besides, when we do get around to telling them, they'll wonder why we kept it from them for so long."_

Dan heaved a heavy sigh,

 _"Do we have to talk about this now, Phil?"_ He mumbled.

 _"Yes; yes we do!"_ Phil frowned, impatiently, _"And I expect you to help me make a decision. I'll tell them myself right now if you don't convince me not to."_

" _Alright, fine, fine… Ach… Right, look, OK, we'll tell them. When Tabitha comes back into the room, we'll tell them,"_ Dan said under his breath, pulling Phil to his side and gently ushering him back to the living room.

"Look, there's something we feel we should tell you and Tabitha," Dan started, uneasily.

"Go on?" Dil urged, interested.

"It's about… something we found…"


	41. So Much More Than Pixels

"Something you… _found?_ " Dil repeated, curiously, staring up to Phil and Dan. He was getting more concerned about them all the time and he didn't know why – they were just acting so strangely and uncomfortably; as though they were trying to cover up something – so he was expectantly anticipating hearing what it was all about at last… if that _was_ what they were going to tell him, at least.

"Yeah, when we were out on our walk," Dan continued, avoiding eye contact as much as he could. He didn't know quite what to say or what he would do if the Howlters wanted rid of them straight away.

"Is something wrong?" Tabitha's voice came from the left as she entered the room again to see her family looking a bit concerned.

Phil turned to meet her gaze and agitatedly scratched the back of his neck.

"Not really…" he started, "We just… Oh, it's nothing-"

"Hey, why don't you take a seat and we'll tell you a bit of a story," Dan offered, gesturing for Tabitha to sit down on the sofa.

"It's about when we were… out… earlier," Phil murmured, "We discovered something and… we weren't sure whether we should tell you yet but we decided just now that we shouldn't be keeping things from you, so here you go."  
"We know how to get back," Dan put in, deciding to get it over with as quickly and painlessly as possible, like pulling off a plaster.

"What?" Dil exclaimed, "Really? Well, that's great!.. Isn't it?"

Phil put his fingers to his mouth and nervously began to bite his nails, poring over his thoughts for something to say next.

Thankfully, Dan continued before he had to come up with anything.

"A barrier," he replied, "Only, the thing is, we only _think_ it can get us back. We could break it and _something_ would happen, but I've no idea what. It's likely that it'll open a… portal, if you see what I mean, but it might also be… _awfully_ dangerous and may or may not have a chance of destroying the whole world. Which isn't really… what I wanted to happen."

"And besides that, we were just… concerned… that there might be some things we need to sort out before we head back," Phil said, speaking up at last.

"We didn't know whether you'd want us to go straight away," Dan added, "So we weren't going to tell you at first. We were thinking of waiting until we were going to leave, you know?"

"Why would we want you to go?" Tabitha queried. She seemed a bit puzzled still.

"I don't know…" Dan sighed, "Maybe we're too much bother for you. We're just a burden: two extra people in the house that you have to shelter. Maybe you'd want your peace and quiet back where you didn't have to think of things to do every day."

"No way; both of you have been such a huge help so far! Whatever would make you think we'd want rid of you?" Dil asked.

Dan shrugged, turning to Phil and gently rubbing his arm.

"So you want us to stay for a while?" Phil started, addressing both Dil and Tabitha.

"Of course we do!" Dil grinned, "You can stay as long as you like! We're technically family, right? What's ours is yours, guys."

Tabitha gave a nod of agreement,

"I mean, we've really enjoyed having you around so far," she chirped, "You've helped out so much! You took care of Dab, you cleaned the house and you kept everything in order for a full five days."

"I'm glad you think we've been useful, then…"

"Definitely!" Dil joined in, "And besides, your happiness and your friendship is something we all should aspire to – you're so close, always there for each-other; I bet you never fall out."

"It happens sometimes," Dan admitted, flashing a glance down to Phil, who looked up to him with a telling smile.

"But besides the point," Dil began again, "If this barrier could destroy the whole world, are you really ready to take on that much responsibility?"

Phil and Dan both hung their heads, shamefacedly.

"It's not particularly a choice," Dan said, quietly, "It's all we can do. We can't stay here forever, after all, even if we want to."  
"We have things to do back at home," Phil added, "We can't just abandon our responsibilities to stay and lead a care-free life here, no matter how much we might want to. At some point, we're going to have to break the barrier, whether it destroys this world or not."

"Phil's right," Dan nodded, a melancholy air to his voice, "It's partially the reason we weren't going to tell you."

"It's alright, guys," Dil assured them, "At the end of the day, we're just Sims."

"Don't say that!" Dan retorted, "You're family, and no matter what you say, you're more than pixels on a screen; so much more."

Phil enthusiastically nodded his agreement.

Dil and Tabitha gave wan smiles, looking up to them with loving eyes before standing up and holding their arms out.

"Come here, you two – group hug."


	42. Dreams

It was at eleven o'clock that night that Dab came toddling out of his bedroom. He wandered into the sitting room when the house was completely pitch black, as silent as a mouse, just awoken from a very strange dream involving sea monsters and tentacles.

He couldn't see very well in the darkness, of course, but he somehow managed to stumble his way over to the coffee table in front of the settee, taking care not to wake Phil, and sat down quietly beside Dan, who was wrapped in blankets and half-buried in pillows and cushions.

"Uncuw An?" He whispered, tapping Dan on the shoulder to attempt to wake him, yet he didn't stir.

Dab gave a little frown and rocked him more violently, calling him a bit louder.

Dan began to wake then, flickering his blurry eyes open to look across to the child, whom had a somewhat frightened expression on his face.

"Hey, what's up?" Dan asked, tiredly. He wasn't in the mood for being woken up at such a late hour, and especially not after yesterday's… events.

"Can sit with you?" Dab begged, his eyes wide and somewhat teary.

"Uh… sure, why?" Dan replied as he sat up on his shoulders and leaned back on the armchair behind him.

"Had nightmare," Dab replied, kneeling down next to him.

"Oh, really? What was it about?"

"Big dragon monster came to eat me."

"Wow, that's not great, is it? Don't worry, kid, there's no big dragon monsters coming to eat you," Dan assured him, even though he couldn't be sure of this statement himself: Draco was giving off some strange vibes.

"Do you have nightmares, Uncuw An?" Dab asked, clinging onto his arm.

"Of course I do," Dan told him, "I once had a _really_ bad dream. It wasn't so long ago, actually; do you want to know what happened?"

"Uh-huh."

"In my dream, Phil – uncle Phil, that is – died. It was a really strange, terrifying dream and I didn't even realise it was a dream until I woke up and he was still there. See, everyone has bad dreams, but they're just dreams and that means they're not real. So don't be scared of dreams, OK? They can't hurt you," Dan smiled, patting Dab on the head like a puppy.

Phil started to wake up at this point, gradually opening his eyes to look across to Dan and Dab before giving a little smile as he realised what they were talking about.

He decided to pretend to be asleep still and closed his eyes, quickly.

"What if I have another nightmare?" Dab asked, innocently, a scared expression on his face.

"Then dream of me – and Phil, if you like – coming to save you, OK?" Dan answered, softly, in the same way that he always talked to Phil in when he was scared; a gentle manner, like a hug with his voice.

"OK, Unuw An" Dab nodded, confidently, standing up again and looking around the room for a second before turning back to Dan, "You tuck me in?" He asked.

"Sure thing," Dan smiled, shakily standing up and leading him back to his bedroom.

The room was dark, as was the rest of the house, and the only light was the moonlight shining through the window above the bed, seeing as there were no curtains covering it.

"Look, do you want me to take the… thing… out of the room?" Dan offered, gesturing to Draco, the stuffed dragon sat in the corner.

Dab shook his head, decisively, and curled up under his bed sheets.

"Well, alright then," Dan mumbled, "Goodnight, kid," and he turned away, gesturing 'I'm watching you' to Draco as he exited the room and closed the door as quietly as he could behind him.

As soon as he was back in the main part of the house, he was met with Phil, stood in the kitchen with his feet against the breakfast bar and his back against the fridge. He was, unsurprisingly, holding a cereal box in one hand, with the other formed into a claw as a reflex when he jumped as he realised Dan had seen him.

"Sorry," he coughed, scrambling to his feet and swallowing a mouthful of whatever he'd managed to cram into his mouth in the space of five minutes.

Dan gave a tired sigh, yet he smiled, and sleepily wandered over to his friend, taking the box from him and stuffing his hand into it, taking out a handful of cereal before passing the box back.

"Just for tonight, I'll let you," he said, turning away and stuffing the 'cheerio' shaped things' into his mouth as he wandered back to his blanket cavern.

Phil stood and watched him go, with a stare that could only be described as absolute shock, before averting his eyes to Dab's bedroom door.

"Did he have a bad dream again?" He asked, leaning back once again on the fridge.

"What do you mean 'again'? Has this happened before?"

"Yeah, he kept having them when you were… away."

"Really? Wow, what were they about?" Dan queried, tilting his head askew.

"I don't particually know, he didn't seem to want to elaborate," Phil replied, thoughtfully, tipping the almost empty box up to the light so he could see how much was left, "Something about worrying you wouldn't come back… or something. I mean, sure, I had nightmares, too, but I-" and then he stopped as he realised he'd resolved not to tell anyone about _that_ – least of all Dan, "No, that's irrelevant."

"What was that?" Dan pushed, suddenly very interested.

"Can we not go into this right now?" Phil mumbled, making fleeting eye contact for a second before replacing the cereal box in the cupboard and brushing off his hands from crumbs.

Dan shook his head with a melancholy air, his face falling.

"You know, I knew you were hiding something," he muttered, "If you have something to say, you can just say it to me. You don't have to keep secrets from me, Phil, you can just talk to me… OK?"

Phil gave a wan smile, slipping his hands into his pockets and wandering over to the sofa, sitting down on the arm and wrapping his arms abound his knees.

"OK…" he whispered with a nod, gazing across to Dan, the moonlight shimmering through the window behind Dan and glinting in his eyes.

"So what do you need to tell me?" Dan asked, putting a gentle hand on his knee.

"It's nothing, it really is; it was only a bit of a strange dream that… did something to me… mentally," Phil answered, somewhat guiltily, "It's nothing that you caused, but… it involved you, I guess. It was only a dream, I was having a bad day-"

"Just tell me what happened."

"Nothing. You came back, that's all, but it wasn't… you. And even though it wasn't you, I still went back to you because I thought… but it doesn't matter – that's not the point – the point is I woke up and I don't know what happened to me but I snapped. I guess I was just annoyed that it was only a dream and I thought you were never coming back. It's nothing really but I thought that if I told you then you'd feel guilty and I didn't want to make you feel that – things were just getting better again. But it's OK now."

"…Better?" Dan asked with a tender smile.

"Yeah. Not great, but better."

"Good, now go back to sleep: it's almost midnight and we have a family to take care of tomorrow."


	43. Long Overdue

**A/N: Hey! Sorry this chapter's been so long-coming, I keep getting distracted with things: drawing and whatnot. To make up for it, I made this one extra long!... You probably didn't want it to be extra long, did you? Oh well! Here you go: I hope you like it anyway!  
Ciao,  
-Whisker**

* * *

There's something about getting a problem off your chest – telling somebody a secret that you can't keep to yourself any longer – that always gives a great sense of relief.

Dan had noticed that Phil had been quite a lot more relaxed and talkative today after their short little chat last night. He'd been happy before, sure, but there was still a bit of shyness… but not anymore; it was gone.

For once, Phil was Phil again. No existential crisis or hiding secrets, just… Phil Lester.

It was 9AM, currently, at the Howlter residence, and Dan had felt that he'd kind of neglected his duty of care when he'd… _disappeared_ earlier, so he was busying himself getting Dab ready for going to nursery: making his breakfast with the little cereal they had left and helping him put his shoes on.

Phil stood to the side, his hands in his pockets, a gentle smile on his face, quietly appreciating the fact that Dan was helping for once.

"There you go, buddy; all set to go!" Dan grinned, straightening Dab's coat and tidying up his hair.

"Thank you Uncuw An," Dab said, cheerily. He was probably quite happy to go back to school after his few days mostly at home – Phil and Dan were running out of ideas of what to do… and quickly.

"No problem. Have fun at nursery, OK?" Dan hummed, standing up at last.

"I will," Dab replied.

Dan gave a thumbs up and glanced over to Dil and Tabitha, who were hurrying about, making sure they were ready to head off to work.

Tabitha paused as she and her husband entered the room and looked up to Dan and Phil,

"Hey, Dan! Thanks for your help," she smiled at them, "And you, too, Philip."

Phil laughed,

"It's alright; our pleasure. It's usually just 'Phil', though; people don't usually call me Philip unless I've done something wrong: 'Stop eating the grapes, Philip!' you know – stuff like that," he sniggered.

"Right…" Tabitha swallowed, slowly nodding her head and raising her eyebrows. She could never determine what either Dan or Phil would say…

"Well, I suppose we'll all be heading out now, then," Dil said as he picked up his keys and unlocked the front door, "You guys will be alright on your own again, won't you?" He asked.

"Of course we will," Phil assured him, "We'll probably just end up sitting around again as per usual. Might go for a walk into the forest again, go out for dinner or something, you know?"

"Well, have fun whatever you end up doing," Dil said, "You can finally have a day alone after all your hard work."

"Oh, and about that party I mentioned yesterday…" Tabitha started, "Are we still going ahead with that? Because I was thinking about tomorrow…"

"I don't see why not," Dan answered, "What do you think, Phil?"

Phil nodded his approval,

"We can invite everyone over!" He chirped, thinking about all the fun they could have in a room full of people like Erica, Summer, Bob and Eliza.

"Wow, would you look at the time!" Dan laughed, awkwardly, looking at his wrist even though he wasn't wearing a watch, "It's 10AM; you'd better be going! Don't want to be late, now, do you?" And he opened the door to wave the Howlters through.

"Oh – right – yeah, we should be off," Dil nodded with a cough, "Thanks, Dan…" and he, Tabitha and their son all trooped out of the door before Dan gently shut and locked it behind them.

"You seemed in a rush to want them to leave," Phil observed.

"I didn't want them to be late at their first days back at work; guess I'm still not used to not micro-managing their lives…" Dan replied, giving a sheepish grin.

Phil sniggered under his breath, his tongue between his teeth as normal. It was the only way Dan could tell the difference between a real laugh and a supposedly happy façade.

"But a walk into the forest? Really? Is that what you want to do?" Dan muttered.

"I-… well…" Phil coughed, absent-mindedly scratching the back of his neck, "Not _really_ , I guess. But anyway, what else is there to do?"

"We could figure out what we're going to do for this party, I suppose…" Dan suggested.

"Oh, wait! I have a better idea!" Phil exclaimed, animatedly, all of a sudden, "Why don't we go and have a… talk… with Eliza? If we make friends with her, she might agree to come along tomorrow."

"You think she'd listen?" Dan scoffed, "She almost broke into the house to kidnap Dab; she doesn't exactly seem like a reasonable person to me."

"I'm not saying I trust her, but it's worth a try, isn't it? What other friends do we have?"

"Well…"

"Precisely! What do you think?" Phil asked, his eyes wide like a puppy's.

Dan gave a tired sigh, though he kept smiling, and briefly averted his eyes to the floor before looking back up and nodding his head,

"Very well, then," he agreed, "What do we say, though?"

"We should start with an apology," Phil replied, "Even though nothing of this is our fault. People are always more accepting once you apologise."

"And then?"

"Well, then we can have a civil chit-chat and maybe drop a few hints that she should stop stalking us, you know? No harm in it."

"I guess. Then we could cunningly mention that she should join us all tomorrow," Dan put in, "Seems like an alright plan."

"Definitely! Should we head across to her house now?" Phil hummed with a smirk like he had something up his sleeve that he wouldn't tell anybody about.

"If you're convinced this will work," Dan answered, slightly uncertainly still, "Then it's fine by me."

* * *

Eliza Pancakes tiredly opened her front door that morning at half past ten.

She wasn't expecting visitors at all that day, so she hardly imagined that she would be met with both Phil and Dan, holding a sheet of A4 paper between them that simply read 'sorry' in black Sharpie with both of their signatures below.

Eliza raised her eyebrows. She would have closed the door on them, but she was too interested in why on Earth they were at her house.

"What are you doing?" She asked, quietly, still embarrassed about what had happened at 2AM on Saturday morning.

"Oh, we, uh-" Dan started with a stammer.

"We came to have a chat," Phil concluded, nodding his head once and folding up the paper into a small square to occupy his hands as he fidgeted.

"About… what?" Eliza queried.

"Well, we just thought we'd try to make peace, that's all," Dan replied, "Why aren't we all friends, eh? What's up with all this controversy?"

"I…" Eliza began before sighing, loudly, and waving them both inside, "Come on in, then; let's talk."

Dan and Phil stepped into the warmth of the Pancake residence and were immediately confronted once again with the steep, black, immaculate staircase right ahead of them.

The amount of expensive furnishings and top-of-the-range decorations throughout the house was enough to make their stomachs turn in anxiety. They felt so out of place; why were _they_ here in this upmarket home, complaining about their little problems in their tiny, one-story house across the road?

They were unworthy of being present here. Or at least that's the feeling they got from the place.

"Come into the lounge for a change; it's much more comfortable in there," Eliza encouraged, leading them to the left and into the living room, which contained an unnecessary number of chairs.

There were two sofas – one facing the flat-screen television on the wall and two white, padded chairs with a table in-between them facing the other.

A silver-y rug was positioned in the middle of the chair arrangement, the corners matching up perfectly with the furniture.

Phil noted two bright green, thriving houseplants in the room, each with their own end tables placed at either end of the wall before the room got narrower where another set of chairs and a table were situated in front of three windows side by side.

The said houseplants were almost the only colour in the otherwise entirely grey room.

"So… about the whole controversy, huh?" Eliza murmured, sitting down on one of the white chairs parallel to the sofa.

"Yeah… about that…" Dan swallowed, nervously taking a seat on the sofa and gently pulling Phil down next to him, "I suppose it's all our fault, really…"

"What? No!" Eliza exclaimed, loudly and suddenly, "How is it your fault? I'm the one who should be apologising! You two are entirely innocent; it's Dil, really, who I'm more annoyed at…"

'Annoyed' was, if truth be told, really putting it nicely.

"In that case, there's probably something that we should break to you," Dan said, clearing his throat and clenching his teeth as he flickered his gaze to his left to look at Phil as if to ask for his approval to continue.

Phil flashed a glance back and briefly smiled, encouraging him to resume.

"The thing is…" Dan went on, "…Ah, how do I put this?… What Dil does… is our fault. All of it. Because you see, we… control him… to some extent, that is…"

"I'm not sure I understand," Eliza breathed, tilting her head to the side.

"We're not exactly from here," Phil said, sensing that Dan wasn't comfortable, "I hope you can take the shock of it all, but we – me and Dan, that is – fell through into this universe, basically, from our own world. I know this is weird and you probably think we're insane, but we're micro-managing his, Tabitha's and Dab's every movement. Only we can't anymore because we're down here, which is why you might have noticed us acting a bit strangely."

"Wait, no; you must be pulling my leg here," Eliza chocked, "That's absolutely-"

"Impossible?" Dan finished, "It's strange, I know: we thought so, too, when we ended up here. It was a huge shock to both of us – especially Phil – and the Howlters."

"And that's why you two are so… restless… all the time?"

Phil nodded. He acted casually as he could, but his heart was beating so fast he felt as if it could stop working at any moment.

"So we're greatly sorry for everything we have done or may do in the future… and all that jazz…" he apologised, his cheeks flushing.

"Hey, it's alright," Eliza assured both him and Dan, "What I've done can't be justified anyway. Even if Erica convinced me to go along with her that one time, I could and should have easily refused. Besides, you two seem to be going through enough stress already without me getting in the way," she grinned, gingerly, sounding even more humiliated than Dan.

"Thank you," Phil said, relieved, closing his eyes and exhaling deeply. As he looked back up again, the left corner of his mouth turned up into a smile – the slightly wonky smile that he always seemed to have, a bit like a smirk but much more friendly.

"Now, how do you British gentlemen mend things?" Eliza asked, cheerily, "Over a cup of tea? How's about that?"


	44. Enlighten Me

Tabitha and Dil returned home from work later on in the day, son in tow, tired but fairly happy with their days effort.

Dab, on the other hand, looked like he'd just had the worst day in his very short life. In fact, he probably had.

He didn't even wear his regular smile as he followed his parents through the door, just looked up to the kitchen where Dan was busy washing up and making sure everything was clean – mostly because there was nothing better to do.

"Oh, hey there!" Dan grinned when he heard the door shut behind them, turning around, still holding a tea towel and a plate in his hands, "Did you all have a nice day?"

Dil and Tabitha both nodded, but Dab shook his head and sulked.

"Why; what's up, kid?" Dan asked, putting the plate away in the cupboard and scrunching up the tea towel before casually tossing it onto the worktop.

"He won't tell us," Tabitha sighed, brushing her fingers through her hair.

Dan bit his lip and slightly narrowed his eyelids, swallowing and turning to his left.

"PHIL!" He called, shortly and sharply.

Phil appeared a few moments later, a surprised, confused and slightly scared expression on his face.

"What's wrong?" He asked, worriedly, thinking that something absolutely dreadful was happening without his knowing.

"Do you want to talk to Phil, Dab?" Dan asked the child, clearly assuming Phil was a better person to confide in.

Dab nodded and Phil gave a forthcoming grin,

"Alright, what's the matter, mate?" He asked as Dab toddled toward him and pulled him into his bedroom.

"So, do anything interesting at work today?" Dan continued, flicking on the tea machine and picking four cups from the cabinet – he'd only just finished the washing up but he supposed that he'd just have to do it again.

"Ah, you know, same old," Dil replied, "Invented some stuff… had some mad banter with a robot… analysed some rocks… nothing abnormal, really," he hummed, "Though I did have a rather good idea for a new gadget…"

"Oh?" Dan piped up, "Go on?"

"A _freeze ray_ ; what do you think?"

"Sounds… interesting. I think anything to do with rays and our family is probably a bit of a bad mix, but if you really think it's a good idea, you go ahead and… invent that," Dan replied, slightly suspiciously, "How about you, Tabitha? Any remarkable programming?"

"Not really…" Tabitha answered with a brief, shy laugh.

"Well, aren't we all the most exciting family…" Dan muttered, sarcastically yet light-heartedly, "Hey, do you want to know what me and Phil did?"

"I can't imagine it being very interesting, but alright then," Dil teased.

Dan frowned, briefly, before chuckling to himself and pouring the tea.

"You'd be surprised," he said, "We went across to the Pancakes' house and apologised to Eliza."

"You apologised?" Tabitha exclaimed, shocked, "But what for?"

"Phil reasoned that if we apologised, she might listen to us, so we went along and told her that everything was our fault," Dan explained, "She forgave us but said that it was _you_ , really, who she was mad at. Then, of course, we had to tell her the truth about where we came from. She took it surprisingly well, actually: better than you did. I guess strange things happen here so much you get used to it after a while…"

"Did she say sorry, though, for what she's done?" Dil queried, "That's the real question."

"Oh, she did, actually. She was very remorseful and even invited us to stay for a cuppa," Dan sniggered, "Which we accepted, obviously, and we ended up having quite an enjoyable conversation. She's not as bad as we thought, actually, and even said that we could do something when we get back home to pay her back."

"Don't go overboard," Dil warned him, flippantly, "Don't want a huge war of retaliation again…"

"Of course not," Dan smirked, picking up two cups of tea and carrying them over to Dil and Tabitha, handing one to each of them, "We even invited her to come over tomorrow for the get-together."

"Fine by me," Tabitha said, "I don't mind her all that much… Then again, she's kind of the only friend I have…"

"Don't worry; Phil's the only real friend I have," Dan reassured her.

"Oh, yeah, and something else…" Dil started, his face falling a bit, "About Phil…"

Dan frowned again, concerned.

"Enlighten me," he retorted, clearing his throat.

"Nothing much, I was just wondering where he got that scar on his cheek and that bruise over his eye," Dil whispered, just in case Phil happened to hear him from the other room.

"Ah, uh, it's- um- oh, nothing- just, I…" Dan stuttered, nervously, "I accidentally pushed him into the table… nil more," he clarified, hoping that Tabitha wouldn't connect the dots between his explanation and the 'mark' on the table corner.

"It's a pretty bad cut-" Dil started, but was cut off.

"It doesn't matter!" Dan snapped, impatiently.

His Sims looked a tad taken-aback.

"Sorry," he groaned, shifting his eyes to the floorboards and staring at the woodgrain, "Just feeling a bit guilty, that's all. It was even worse before you came back – I cleaned it out for him and he had a plaster with some antiseptic on for a while to try and make it heal faster."  
"Well, as long as you didn't get into a fight," Tabitha smiled at him, sympathetically.

"Nothing that couldn't be resolved," Dan swallowed, gazing back up to her.

He didn't want to have to ever tell them the truth. It was his and Phil's secret, and he wanted to keep it that way. What kind of a person would he come across as if it was revealed that he'd actually physically injured his best friend? It wasn't just the scars and bruises, either (which they'd discovered Phil had a whole lot more of than he first realised. He was covered in them: all down his arm and his sides along with little scratches all over his back).

It was over now and they were friendly with each other again, sure, but every time Dan remembered _'that'_ night, he got a little shiver down his spine, and every time Phil so much as looked at his scar in the mirror, he'd feel so guilty that he couldn't get on with his day for a good half hour.

"What are we thinking for this party tomorrow, eh?" He asked, swiftly changing the subject.

"Not sure…" Dil coughed, shaking his head, noting how uncomfortable Dan was, "Has Phil got any ideas?"

"You'll have to ask him," Dan replied, staying silent for a moment.

He could just about hear footsteps and Dab's bedroom door creaking open.

"Now, remember, Dab," Phil's voice came, quietly, "Friends are like snowflakes: if you pee on them, they _will_ disappear. Now have fun."  
A few seconds later he cheerily wandered over to stand beside Dan, an amused smirk on his face.

"You can tell he's a Howlter…" he observed, putting his arm around his friend's shoulders.

"We were just talking about you, Phil!" Tabitha chirped.

Phil raised his eyebrows. He would have raised only one, but he'd never been able to figure out how to do that.

"Oh, really?" He asked, evasively, "What were you talking about?"

Dan gave a nervy laugh and pulled him back, guiding him away a bit,

"It was nothing, really," he said with a telling glance.

Phil cottoned on to what he was suggesting and flicked his eyes to Dil and Tabitha for a split second.

 _"You didn't tell them, did you?"_ He whispered to Dan.

 _"No, don't worry,"_ Dan assured him under his breath, rubbing his back, _"Not entirely. I don't think they've connected the dots yet so we're good."_

" _Good_ ," Phil breathed, swallowing and turning back to his Sims, "So about this party, yeah..?"


	45. The Friends List

"Who do we invite, do you think?" Dan asked, chewing the end of his pencil as he rested his folded arms on the tabletop.

He and Phil were busy party planning, pondering over who to invite and what food to make. It was only 12 o'clock in the afternoon, but they wanted to make sure that they had everything perfect for later on.

Dil and Tabitha had put fourth the idea last night that they should have the get-together quite late in the day and so everyone had decided that 6 o'clock seemed a good time to start it.

Of course, it was only a house party, but it also marked one of the last days they'd ever share with their Sims before they attempted to break through the barrier.

After all, if something went wrong _then_ , they'd want to have at least _one_ memory of a great night to take to the grave with them.

Phil gave a hum of thought, swallowed and opened his mouth to speak but then decided against it. He lifted his eyes from the paper in front of him where he had been making some sort of list of people they knew, but had gotten bored a while ago and just started drawing tiny little lions all down the side of it.

"Well, we have to invite Eliza and Bob," he said eventually, looking across to Dan, "Summer, Mia Yang, Erica Pendleton…"

"Erica? Really, Phil?" Dan scoffed, "Don't you think that's a bit of a bad idea after she _literally_ tried to _abduct_ Dab?"

"Oh, come _on_ ," Phil bleated, "Just for the _drama_ at least!" He begged, the wide grin on his face showing up the gouge in his cheek.

"Alright, fine, fine…" Dan muttered. He'd felt, recently, like he couldn't say no to Phil. It was partly because he was still feeling slightly guilty and also partially because he didn't want to seem all depressed and get Phil worried about him.

"Besides, the more the merrier, right?" Phil added, ticking off Erica's name on the list. The only person he'd decided not to invite was Preston – and he supposed that was a bit mean, seeing as Preston was the first person they ever met, but he'd never really seemed like a fun guy. And besides, he abandoned Dil in the park on his first day in the world, and that's not one of the qualities of a good friend.

Two things they wouldn't need this time around were a caterer or a mixologist, seeing as Dil could do that all himself, being the multi-talented guy he was, but Mia Yang might as well come along – just for the fun of it.

"What about… child Zachary and his terrible mum, Aubree?" Phil suggested, staring down at his list and pointing the end of the pen in his left hand at the writing on the paper.

Dan didn't reply because he'd only just noticed the numerous gashes on Phil's right hand. Without thinking for a second, he reached out to turn it over and heaved a sigh.

Phil seemed a little surprised at this action but looked up and frowned a bit when he realised what Dan was doing.

"Stop it," he snapped, "It's nothing."

Dan hurriedly let go of his hand, sat back in his chair, a bit taken-aback, and put the tips of his fingers to his mouth.

"I-," he breathed, his eyes watery, "I just hadn't… noticed before."

"I smashed a glass," Phil retorted, "Nothing more to it…" then he bit his lip, guiltily, as he saw the tears in his friend's eyes, "Look, I'm sorry, Dan," he sighed, "But you need to agree to bury the hatchet; I thought you said we were over this?"

Dan stared down the hall to Dil and Tabitha's bedroom door, hearing their voices distantly, and put his pencil down to slide his chair back and get to his feet.

"What are you doing?" Phil asked, watching him as he wandered over to his side of the table to sit back down next to him.

"I wanted to sit with you," Dan replied, shuffling closer and gazing down at the scruffy list of friends Phil had made; somehow he'd managed to remember quite a few.

Phil gave a smile and laid his hand, palm facing upwards, on the tabletop before carrying on reading.

"What about Gabriel Trevino?"

"Isn't he Tabitha's ex?" Dan queried.

"Yeah, I think so…"

"Nah, mate. He had mutton-chop sideburns and always wore a flat cap: we don't talk about him."

Phil suppressed a laugh and shakily crossed Gabriel off the list. He was only shaky because he was using his wrong hand.

"Hey, guys!" Dil's voice came, cheerily, from behind, at that moment, "Hope I'm not interrupting anything..?"

"Not at all!" Dan replied, draping his arm over the back of his chair to face him, "What's up?"

"I was looking through a box of old stuff and I just so happened to come across a load of party things," Dil replied, lifting his hands and showing him a pile of party hats and deflated balloons.

"I… Well…" Dan hawed, "I'm not sure if we'll be needing all that; it's only a house party."  
"Aw, come on, Dan," Dil huffed, "Have some fun," and he non-consensually placed a green hat on his head.

Dan squinted at him and frowned,

"Thanks," he muttered, trying to sound annoyed, but however hard he tried, he had to snigger.

"Really, though," Phil put in, "We don't need to make the house all fancy, like; just make some food, set the lights to jazzy colour and everything will be fine."

"Ach!" Dil yelped, "The food! I almost forgot! I needed to start making that…"

"Hey, don't worry, we have plenty of time," Phil assured him, "It's only twelve."

"And I have to clean the house and call people and plan the music, too!"

"Well, why don't you let me and Dan help out a bit? We'd be glad to!"

"You'd do that?" Dil asked, hopefully.

"Sure!" Dan chimed in, "Anything! It's the least we can do."

"In that case… would you two do the cooking?"

Phil bit his lip with a nervy laugh and cleared his throat,

"Of course we can…" he nodded, even though he'd never been brilliant at cooking and, as far as he knew, neither had Dan.

"Brilliant! I've put a list on the fridge of whatever needs making, so I trust I can leave you with that?"

"…Yes…"

"Thanks; you guys are the best!"

* * *

Of course, Phil and Dan would do everything they could to help out in any way whatsoever, so they didn't have any problem with food preparation, they were only a tad nervous that they might mess up in some way.

They'd mostly lived off cereal, sandwiches and whatever microwave meals they could find, which Phil had hardly eaten any of. In fact, he'd hardly eaten anything _at_ _all_ all week.

At this very moment, they were busying themselves preparing the evening's meals.

There were four courses that needed making and they had five hours to do so. It was plenty of time, but they always liked things to be ready early so that if anything _did_ go wrong, they had enough time to curl up in the corner and cry about it before resolving it again.

They were in the process, currently, of making salad: a caprese salad, to be more specific. Hopefully they could make it as well as Mia Yang did at Dil's first ever house party way back in 2014.

Dil had put some music on for them to listen to as they worked, too. It was the music he'd had planned for later and it was getting increasingly difficult with every song to not start dancing about and singing.

Not that they wouldn't sing at home, that they were particularly bad singers or that they were worried about accidentally stabbing themselves, but they just didn't want Dil or Tabitha to hear and be quietly laughing to themselves in the next room.

So instead they stuck to their usual banter.

Dil could hear their conversation from in his bedroom where he was putting together a string of bunting that he'd convinced Phil and Dan to let him hang up. He was rather amused by their conversations and managed to overhear such gems as,

"I literally can't cut this potato."

"I know; this knife is rubbish."

And also,

"Do you ever wonder what it would be like to be a houseplant?"

These sentences needed no context, nor did Dil have to think for a second about who had said them.

He didn't really want his creators to leave his world and even though he was looking forward to the get-together that night, it would mark the point of which at any time they could just get up and leave. It was 'the beginning of the end', as some might put it, and sure that sounds a bit dramatic, but for Dil, it was a turning point. He'd have to go about his life after this (and his family would have to go about theirs) knowing that he was constantly being watched over and that most of his decisions were probably not his own.

But it didn't really matter: he trusted Dan and Phil with his well-being and even though he knew that they were both sometimes clumsy and might make a bad verdict here and there, they _were still his creators_ and he had full confidence that whatever they did would work out well in the end, even if he would never know it was them who did it.


	46. Astro Turf

It was 5:30 PM in Willow Creek when things were being made perfect for the party. Last touches to the bunting over the drinks bar, making sure that all the food was placed perfectly symmetrically on the table and adjusting the bar stools so that they were straight.

Dab was busying himself tidying his bedroom so that if anybody wanted to come and see it, it would be lovely and clean.

Tabitha was setting the lighting to an aqua blue, cleaning Jerry the lawn flamingo until he was shining and checking things off her list until everything was done and dusted.

As for Dil, he was stood at the door, fiddling about with the radio.

It seemed everything was ready to go, so he stood up, flicked on the radio (starting with some relaxing chill-out music to help everyone lighten up before people started arriving) and clapped his hands together,

"Come on, guys; wakey, wakey!" He chirped, turning to Phil and Dan, who had opted – very sensibly – to have a nap on the sofa before the party and who were currently lolled out on the cushions, facing away from each other and both half-hanging over the side of the arm rests.

They weren't particularly happy to be woken up, but perked up soon enough when they realised it'd only be half an hour until people started to arrive.

"Does anything need doing last minute?" They asked, a little bit hastily, sitting up straight before picking themselves up off the settee and unsteadily getting to their feet.

"Nope; I have everything sorted!" Dil proclaimed, proudly, "Just make sure you look your best for everyone, OK?"

Dan nodded and brushed himself down, making sure his collar was tidy and that his hair was neat – as neat as it could be, anyway.

Phil brushed his fringe back into a quiff and blinked to clear his vision. He hadn't been able to wear his contacts for the last week because they'd dried out and he didn't have any cleaning fluid to put them in, so however hard he tried, he wouldn't be able to see absolutely perfectly and he'd just have to have some very blurry conversations with some very blurry people.

Shakily fastening his top three shirt buttons, he cast a glance to Dan and bit his lip,

"Think everything will turn out okay?" He asked. He wasn't worried exactly, but inviting Erica and Eliza together was beginning to seem like a bad idea.

"Of course it will!" Dan smiled, patting his shoulder, reassuringly, "Come on, let's neaten ourselves up before everyone arrives…" and he put his arm around him to direct him to the nearest mirror – which just so happened to be Dil and Tabitha's bedroom mirror.

"Dan, I had this really weird dream," Phil said, tiredly, as they pushed open the door.

"Oh yeah?" Dan answered, interestedly, "What about?"

"We all went to this weird zoo thing with snakes and parrots and there was a really strange zoo-keeper who took care of the snakes, so we didn't stay in the snake enclosure, so we walked out and you turned to me and said 'I don't trust that guy and his snakes' and then we went home and there was parrots," Phil told him.

Dan opened his mouth to speak, but couldn't think of a very good reply.

"That's…" he coughed, "Interesting…"

"The we all went up a mountain to jump over the barrier and we got really hungry but nobody packed food so we found some shelter and resorted to eating astro-turf," Phil concluded.

"Sometimes I worry about you, Philly," Dan sniggered, brushing a stray piece of hair out of his face.

Phil gave a quiet laugh and stared out of the window as Dan fixed his hair in the mirror.

"Think everyone will come?" He asked.

"Hopefully," Dan replied, "Otherwise there'll be loads of food left over."  
"You say that like it's a bad thing," Phil smirked, "All the more for us, right?"

"As if you'd eat all that!" Dan scoffed.  
"I would!" Phil insisted.

"Really? Because you've lost a lot of weight recently, you know?"

"I didn't think you'd notice," Phil coughed, his smile falling, "I don't look bad, do I?"

"You look fine, pal, don't worry," Dan comforted, "Just a bit pointy-"

"Hey, you two!" Dil called, ecstatically, from the living room, "Come here and help me greet people!"

"Wow, they're arriving already?" Dan mumbled to himself, "Well, come on, Phil – let's give everyone a warm welcome…"

Unsurprisingly, the first person to arrive was Eliza. She greeted Phil and Dan, who opened the door to her, with a wide grin.

"Oh, hey, Eliza; you're early," Dan smiled back, waving her inside.

"Yeah, sorry about that," Eliza replied with a ginger laugh, "Didn't really have anything better to do, you know?"

"Did Bob not want to come along, too?" Phil asked, gently closing the door behind her.

"Ah, you know what he's like," Eliza replied, looking up to him with an ever-so-slightly scared look in her eyes, "He doesn't really leave the house a lot on his days off work."

"Oh, that's fine," Dan nodded. He was actually quite glad Bob wasn't coming because he always felt a bit awkward and, seeing as nobody else was here yet, he would have been forced to make conversation. He hardly knew anything about Bob apart from what he learned on the camping trip, and Mr Pancakes himself didn't know where he or Phil were really from, so that would have been discomfiting.

"Hello, Eliza!" Tabitha called from over at the table, "I'm glad you could make it. I was just making absolutely certain that we have everything ready. Would you like anything to drink? We have cocktails…"

"That'd be great, thanks!" Eliza affirmed, and Dil went about preparing the drinks.

Tabitha had no idea about what happened Saturday morning. In fact, neither did anyone except Phil and Dan, and even Dan only knew _vaguely_ what occurred. They and Eliza herself had vowed to keep it a secret – surely the Howlters would never speak to Eliza again if they knew she tried to kidnap Dab, and Eliza wouldn't be happy about that: she'd probably start stalking them again out of pure spite.

Nobody needed to know.

"Who else have you invited?" Eliza asked Dil as she took a seat on the blue stool by the bar.

"Quite a lot of people, actually," Dil replied, putting the lid on the cocktail shaker, "Dan and Phil did most of the organising, so I didn't really have a say, but they've invited most of the people I've ever met."

Dan stuck his hands in his pockets and gave a grin,

"The more the merrier!" He insisted.

Half the people that they had invited probably didn't even remember Dil anymore, but seeing as their contacts were still on his phone, there was no reason not to ask them to come along.

"To name a few…" he continued, "Mia Yang, Jade Hope, Summer Holiday, Weston Ayala, Geoffrey Landgraab…"

"Erica?" Eliza put in, worriedly.

Phil swallowed,

"I didn't see a reason not to," he breathed, scratching the back of his neck and shifting about on his feet.

Eliza seemed to look annoyed for a second, but her expression soon softened,

"It's fine, I'm sure nothing will happen," she said as Dil poured her drink. She mostly didn't want to argue because she didn't know Phil all that well and, even though she somewhat knew he was good-humoured, she didn't want a repeat of Saturday.

"She might not even turn up, but if she does and you feel uncomfortable, I could always ask her to leave," Dan added. He'd decided Eliza wasn't all that bad after all; she seemed to apologise quickly and even though she was a bit of a weirdo', at least she wasn't doing anything to hurt anybody and he'd much rather kick Erica out of the house.

It didn't take long before Summer Holiday arrived, a joyful smile on her face, clearly very excited to be at Dil's house for the first time in at least a year.

It had been Phil's designated duty to answer the door, so of course he greeted her.

Dil had explained to everybody on the phone what exactly the party was for ('some friends' he had said, 'who've been staying with us for a while. They're leaving soon so we thought we'd have a night in with them and a few friends. Dan and Phil, their names are.') so Summer was hardly surprised to see an unfamiliar face greet her.

"Hey there!" She chirruped in a very strong American accent, "I'm Summer! You must be one of Dil's house-guests; Phil or Dan?"

It took Phil a second to figure out what she was asking, but he soon replied with,

"Phil."

"Great to meet you! You're really tall," Summer complimented him.

"I know," Phil answered without really thinking. He never knew how to respond whenever people said that to him.

"And such a beautiful accent, too!" Summer continued, "It matches your features so well…"

"Alright, Flirty McFlirterson; do you want to come inside or not?" Phil sniggered, light-heartedly.

"I'd like to come in, thanks," Summer said, happily, "Has anyone else arrived yet? Dil mentioned you and Dan had invited a lot…"

"Only-" Phil started, showing her inside, but thought it impolite to mention names and just kind of waved his hand in Eliza's general direction.

He couldn't remember whether Eliza and Summer got on well, but he assumed that it wouldn't matter. Besides, so far the only people who had arrived were Dil's ex girlfriends, so it was already pretty awkward.

* * *

People seemed to get along swimmingly and within half an hour, the living room was crowded of old friends whom half of only came because they had nothing better to do.

They must have invited enough, though, as the buzz seemed to attract attention and they soon received a knock at the door.

Obligatorily, Phil had to answer and opened it a crack to peer out. He was a bit suspicious of who it could be because the only people who hadn't turned up yet were Erica and Geoffrey.

Strangely enough, it was Preston who stood outside, looking a bit confused.

"Are you having a get-together?" He asked, staring up to Phil.

"Yes…" Phil replied, quietly, expressionless. They hadn't invited Preston.

"Can I join you all?"

"You can't come in, mate; you're not wearing shoes."

"These are shoes-"

"Did I say you could talk?"

"I-"

"Nah, I'm just joking, mate – you can come if you want…"

"You know what, I might… I might just go… home… you know? Yeah… I'll see you later…" Preston said, uncomfortably, before speed-walking away down the street.

Phil tilted his head to the side in bewilderment and uttered a silent 'Oh…' before turning away and closing the door to find Dan stood behind him.

"Hello," he choked in slight surprise.

"Look at everyone," Dan said, softly, putting an arm around Phil's shoulders and gesturing to the room, "Do you think they're having fun?"

"Yeah…" Phil nodded, "What about it?"

"I think they could have even more fun, don't you?"


	47. The Flour Game

"Wine?" Phil offered, holding out a bottle in front of him. Dan had given him the job of handing out refills to everybody and of course, Phil had unquestioningly agreed.

"Oh, yes, thank you," Summer smiled back to him with a nod. She narrowed her eyes a bit as she did and fluttered her (presumably fake) eyelashes at him, holding out the glass in her hand.

There was something about her that made Phil a tiny bit uncomfortable, but then again, he had never been the best at socialising, so maybe that was normal.

He tried his best to hold the bottle steady as he poured the wine and patiently waited for the expression of 'that's enough'.

Dan was busying himself casually chatting to Weston Ayala as he arranged the food and offhandedly inviting anyone who walked past to eat something because he hadn't made four courses just for decoration. He cast a glance to Phil, who met his eyes, and grinned.

Phil had no idea what he had up his sleeve, but he was willing to go along with whatever. People seemed to be having an alright time already – socialising and catching up with Dil – and even Dab had come out of his room to say hello to some new people.

"That's enough," came Summer Holiday's voice suddenly, forcing Phil to be brought back to reality so that he wouldn't spill alcohol all over the rug and stain it in a horrible merlot disaster.

"Sorry; I got a bit carried away there…" he sniggered, timidly, handing Summer the glass in his hand, which was almost full to the brim, before moving on around the room.

It was only after he'd been around the whole room and the bottle had almost run out, that he wandered back to the kitchen, gently placing the wine bottle on the breakfast bar.

"Oh, hey, Phil!" Dan called, waving him over as Weston moseying away to find somebody else to converse with.

"Yeah?" Phil hummed, wiping a drop of wine from his hand onto his jeans and rolling his sleeves up to his elbows.

"I had a great idea I need you to help me out with," Dan replied, pulling him by the arm to his side, "Do we have any flour?"

"Flour? I'm sure we do… but what do you want it for?" Phil asked, intrigued.

"We need to make something from it," Dan told him, "Flour, a coin and a coffee cup."

Phil raised his eyebrows,

"You go and get a coin, then, and I'll see if I can find any flour…" he said, wandering back into the kitchen as Dan bounded off to Dil's room to hopefully discover some spare change – just a penny would do.

Phil had no clue what he was planning, but got together a bag of flour and a mug as Dan had instructed.

"Alright, what are we doing?" He asked as Dan came back into the room and dropped a coin onto the worktop.

"There's this party game I've seen done," Dan explained, opening the bag of flour, "Involving a mound of flour made out of a cup with a coin balanced on top… could you get me a plate?"

"You still haven't explained exactly what we're going to do with this… flour mound…" Phil sniggered, taking a plate out of the cupboard and laying it down on the bar, "Is this what you meant by 'even more fun'?"

"Trust me; this is going to be hilarious," Dan assured him, packing the flour into the cup, placing the plate on top of it and quickly turning it upside-down, "You hold this, I'll tell everyone what we're doing."

"Why don't you tell _me_ what we're doing?" Phil called after him as he promenaded into the lounge and moved a wine glass from the table onto the floor before clapping his hands together, loudly.

"Right, guys, I've had an idea!" He chirped, and everyone turned round to look at him - even Dil at the other end of the room, behind the drinks bar, "We're going to play a game. I've put it all together and it's very simple…" and he beckoned Phil over, signalling to bring the plate and cup with him.

Phil gingerly cast a look around the room, making an expression that made it blatantly obvious that he had no clue what he was doing.

Dan took the plate from him, mouthing a 'thanks, pal' as he did and putting it down, carefully, on the table.

"Right, we have a cup of flour with a coin on top and – if Phil would go and fetch a knife – we're all going to take turns cutting slices off the flour until it falls down and whoever makes it fall down has to pick out the coin from the mess with their teeth," he grinned.

Phil opened his mouth to speak, decided not to speak after all and trudged back into the kitchen to find a knife before walking back into the living room, staring at the knife in his hand in an odd manner like he was fascinated by every atom of its being.

"Thanks," Dan thanked him, plucking it from between his fingers, worrying that maybe supplying him with a knife wasn't the best idea.

He took the cup from the plate, dropped the coin onto it and handed the knife to the first person on his left,

"Let's start!"

* * *

Flour cutting was an exact science.

The pile was getting small and only a very thin strip of flour surrounded the penny in the middle.

Eliza Pancakes held the knife, precariously, in her hands and stared down to the end of it, trying to find just the right place to cut so that she wouldn't have to be the one with the face full of flour.

She cast a final look about the room at everybody's anxious faces before rolling her shoulders and squinting at the blade before shakily and slowly bringing it down into the compacted four tower.

It seemed, as the knife entered it, that it wouldn't fall down, but of course it did; it almost seemed to collapse in slow motion as the realisation that she had lost started to sink in.

She could hear the collective surprised laughs of everyone around her as she heaved a tired sigh and gritted her teeth before looking up to Dan, who was sat at the other end of the table across from her… smirking.

"Go, on Eliza!" Jade Hope chuckled, clapping her hands, excitedly.

Eliza took her glasses off, stared down to the lonely coin in the middle of the flour catastrophe and gave one final laugh of defeat before squeezing her eyes shut and burying her face in it.

She could hear, amongst the cheers and chortling, Phil's laugh in particular – he had a distinctive laugh and even though she hadn't heard him laugh before, she knew it was him. She was glad that she could hear him happy, even though it was probably only a mocking snort of revenge, but it was better than him frowning all the time.

Underneath her odd… _stalker_ tendencies, Eliza was a cheery person who loved to hear people happy. Maybe it was from living with Bob, who constantly seemed to be down in the dumps.

She caught the penny between her teeth and as the taste of and copper filled her mouth, she lifted up her floury face and grinned.

Phil gave her double thumbs up and she could see Dan in hysterics beside him, holding onto his arm to restrain himself from falling over sideways.

Jade seemed to have managed to get bits of flour in her afro, too, and was now busying herself combing it out with her fingers, a goofy smile on her face.

"What a good sport, Elizzle!" Weston chortled; his eyelids scrunched up shut as he laughed.

Eliza took the penny out of her mouth, brushed the flour from her face and declared,

"I demand a re-match!"


	48. It Don't Mean a Thing

Dan looked up from the kitchen sink and over his shoulder to gaze out of the window next to the television at the night's sky. It was getting late, nearing nine, and everybody was still here.

Of course, they'd be leaving soon enough: when one person goes, everyone starts going; and it looked as if Summer and Jade were getting ready to leave.

Both girls had been the life of the party so far – Jade was great at reciting funny anecdotes and Summer had had plenty of amusing experiences, too, to tell.

Phil had his arms resting on the back of the settee, his arched back making his shoulder blades show through his shirt. He seemed to be quite enjoying himself, which Dan was glad of, and had kept people entertained in awkward silences with embarrassing stories of his own – after all, he always seemed to attract crazy people (maybe that was why Eliza liked him so much). He'd told them about the time that a man in a nightclub shoved him into another guy for staring at his girlfriend's fox tattoo, and also the time that he was attacked by a squirrel.

People liked him a lot – he was hard _not_ to like, really, what with his cheery personality and his positively glowing smile.

Dan looked over to him and gently sniggered as he turned around to meet his gaze.

Taking his hand out of the sink, Dan gave a wave, soapy bubbles dripping off his fingers.

Phil grinned to him as some electro swing music played in the background. He looked the most awake he had been in days.

Dan returned to the washing up, wearing a content smirk, tapping his foot to the beat and listening to everyone talk behind him.

He'd been able to pick out Phil's voice amongst the rest and had been quietly chuckling at his conversations.

There had been a moment when someone had pointed out his wound and, from the kitchen, Dan's heart skipped a beat or two. Thankfully, Phil had simply replied with 'it was nothing; let's not get into that' and left it there. Taking the plug out of the sink and drying off his hands with a tea towel, Dan turned about and leaned back on the counter.

The song was ending and, because Dil had showed him the playlist earlier (and he'd given suggestions to his Sim for what to put on it), he knew which song was next: It Don't Mean a Thing (If It Ain't Got That Swing): the original cast recording from Broadway. It was one of those songs you _had_ to dance to – there was no way not to. Unfortunately, he didn't think anyone here could possibly be tipsy enough to get up and dance about the room to a Broadway song.

Dumping the towel on the worktop, he waited until the music started before wandering over to Phil and tapping him on the shoulder.

"What's up?" Phil asked, thinking something was wrong that needed fixing.

"Come on!" Dan chirped, taking his hands and pulling him forward to stand straight, next to the dining table.

"What are you doing?" Phil asked with a laugh.

Dan – still keeping hold of his hands – slowly swayed him from side to side,

"Are you doing alright?" He asked, out of earshot of everyone else.

Phil nodded, still slightly confused (but amused), as Dan turned him around in time to the music.

"Good; nothing better than having a dance with your best friend, right?"

"I can't dance," Phil chuckled, "Especially not swing… or with you."

"Ah, just make it up as we go along," Dan replied with a scoff, averting his eyes and looking down to his feet. If he was perfectly honest, the only dance he could remember was the one that they did in TATINOF for The Internet is Here.

He assumed that nobody was watching, so took a side step in time to the beat. Quite a few side steps, actually.

Phil followed along with his movements, the music speeding up, slightly worried about tripping over his own feet and everyone seeing him.

The only thing either of them could think to do was touch stepping back and fourth with their hands pressed together and then attempting to recreate some jive moves they'd seen done before – it didn't matter that it wasn't swing, it just matched.

It didn't fail, surprisingly, and, as the chorus started up, they picked up pace, too. A twirl, a couple of steps and another twirl later, they resorted to tweaking the dance from The Internet is Here. Of course, it was nothing like a dance you'd do for Swing, but nobody was watching so what did it matter? They didn't have hats or canes this time, but they could work with that.

They started beside each other, a few touch steps before the song got quicker and they sidestepped past each other, back and fourth.

They made sure to stay out of view, behind the bedroom wall and the table, near the back door next to the computer.

Some more steps to and fro, mixing in some Jive, hands back together, one twirl each before returning to TATINOF: separating and taking two strides to the left – palms facing downwards towards to floor and swinging in time to the beat – and then back to the right again.

They turned to face each other as the music started to reach a climax, put their hands together (Phil's left and Dan's right) – arms around each other's shoulders – and dipped to Dan's right in time to the beat before spinning round twice at the climax and dipping back to take a breather as a brief interval of piano music started.

Their hearts were beating rapidly from the unusual exercise, but they paid no heed to that; it was the most fun they'd had in weeks.

There was still one full minute of song left to play and the piano was drawing to a close, the other instruments joining in, so they put their hands together once again and, breath catching with every move, stepped along to the sound of the saxophone. They mimed to the lyrics, grins on their faces as they did, looking like they were having the best time of their lives.

 _"Well, it makes no difference if it's sweet or hot-"_ the vocals chimed in, signaling the song was drawing to a close.

They took two touch steps beside each other, going opposite directions before joining together again.

 _"Just. Give. That. Rhythm… everything you got-"_

A bit of a jive – even some twirls here or there…

 _"No, no, it don't mean a thing if it ain't got that swing-"_

Some more moves from TATINOF; a couple of strides to the left then to the right, a bit of a shimmy then hands together and a twirl-

 _"Do-wa do-wa do-wa do-wa do-wa- do-wa do-wa do-"_

One last set of touch steps, back and fourth, hands together again-

 _"Yeah, it don't mean a thing, all you got to do is sing-"_

A hop, skip and a jump in opposite directions like they did on stage, taking up almost all of the energy they had left-

"Do-wa do-wa do-wa do-wa- do-wa- da-wa do-wa do-wow."

A stage kick forward in time to the vocals then back. The music reached a high point, ending with a trombone blow and a trumpet sound as they did a twirl into each-other and dipped back, out of breath and panting, wildly.

They gave a loud laugh, stood up straight and shakily stumbled forwards into a warm hug.

And that's when they heard a chorus of 'aww'-ing and giggles along with a sound of clapping and they realised that they'd been watched the entire time.

Did they care? Not a bit. How could they? What could possibly be better than making up a dance routine _as you perform it_ with your friend beside you, all in front of a room of people?

They quietly laughed to themselves, muffled by the fabric of their shirts, and waited for their hearts to calm down.

"Hey," Dan breathed, silently, lifting his head a tad, "Didn't I tell you this would all work out OK?"


	49. Craft

**A/N: Hey! So, sorry this one's a tad dull, I just thought I ought to clear some stuff up, like. On a side note, _101 reviews_ , guys! I mean, I know that most of them are from, like... four people... but _still!_ Man, before this, the most reviews I ever had was 8 - _I thought 8 was amazing._ Thanks so much for all of the nice comments and stuff, I really appreciate it :3 (that's supposed to be a smiling cat face).  
So ciao for now,  
-Whisker**

* * *

"I think that went down a treat."

"They had a _great_ time," Dan agreed, nodding and gently rubbing Phil on the back as they both peered out of the bedroom window, watching everyone traipse away down the road.

"Hey, guys; we did great!" Dil chirped, pushing open the door, which creaked as he did, "Or rather, _you_ did…"

Phil turned around to face him and his cheeks flushed as he gave a ginger grin,

"Everyone saw everything, didn't they?" He sighed. He acted like he was embarrassed – he partly was – but underneath all that, he thought it was pretty funny.

" _I_ saw everything," Dil nodded, leaning back on the doorframe, "Because I was at the bar and I had a clear view. Everyone else, though, just saw the ending parts."

"I'm not sure that makes it any better at all," Dan muttered, shaking his head.

"Don't worry, Dan," Phil sniggered, "I'm sure they just assumed we were a bit tipsy. Whatever they thought, I'm certain they had the best night _ever_."

Dan gave a laugh and folded his arms.

"Doesn't matter, I guess," he said, buoyantly, "I'm absolutely exhausted, though, I don't know about you."

"Yeah, me, too," Phil affirmed with an enthusiastic nod, "Feel like I could fall asleep right here and now."

"You two should really get some rest," Dil told them both, "The living room's a bit of a mess, so I guess I'd better tidy up first-"  
"Nah, it's fine," Dan put in, "I'm sure Phil can make himself comfy on the sofa as usual; can't you, Phil?"

Phil nodded,

"Are you going to retreat to your blanket cavern again?" He asked, sounding concerned, "I mean, I'm a tad worried that sleeping on the floor isn't doing great things to your spine…"

"It'll be fine," Dan assured him, "I could sleep anywhere right now…"

"Well, that's sorted, then," Dil mumbled, "Look, I'll have to clear the room a _bit_ still, but if you want something to do in the interim… could you help put Dab to bed? It's way past his bedtime but he wouldn't go to sleep whilst people were here…"  
"Oh, yeah, that's fine!" Dan smiled, "Do you want us to read him a bedtime story, too?"

"You can if you want," Dil said, turning out of the room, "Just make sure he goes to sleep alright."

"Got it," Phil grinned as he let the door shut behind him.

Dan didn't mind doing the childcare, seeing as he'd missed out almost two whole days of it… it felt like so much longer, though. He knew he should forget about it and that Phil was getting pretty fed up of him constantly mentioning it, but he just couldn't help but still feel guilty.

As he and Phil quietly left the room, tripping over the end of the bed frame in overtiredness, he yawned. He kept having flashbacks to Friday night, but he banished those thoughts from his mind, not as much for his sake, but for Phil's. His friend wouldn't want him to carry on chewing over the subject, after all. He only hoped that Dab wouldn't tell Dil and Tabitha about what happened…

"Hey there, kid!" He smiled as they opened the door to the child's room and stepped inside, "Your dad said we should put you to bed; do you want a story before, or..?"

"No thank you," Dab said. He was sitting, looking tired, at the end of his bed and clutching a toy llamacorn to his chest.

"Oh… well, that's simple enough," Phil sniggered, "You want me to tuck you in, though, don't you?"

"Yes, pwease, Uncuw Fiw," Dab chirped with a beaming smile, clambering under the sheets and waiting, patiently.

Phil idly scratched the back of his neck as he kneeled down by the bed and gently tucked the duvet around Dab (so that he looked a bit like a burrito) before giving a quiet laugh and standing up again.

"Goodnight, then…" he smiled.

Dab was about to say goodbye back, but Dan interrupted.

"Wait, wait, wait. Before we go… I need to ask you something," he coughed, sitting down, cross-legged on the green carpet.

Phil frowned and gave an impatient sigh, folding his arms. He knew exactly what was going down.

"Dan…" he warned, "Don't start this again."

Dan turned his head to look up to him and opened his mouth to speak, his eyes wide and pleading.

"I… I just need to make sure…" he whispered before looking back to the child, "Now, Dab… have you told your parents what happened with… me and Phil… whilst they were out?"

Dab shook his head.

"Good…" Dan breathed, "Don't tell them, alright? As far as they know, everything went perfectly. If I feel, sometime, that it's alright for them to know… then I'll tell them myself-"

"But it was nothing, really," Phil butted in, "Just a petty argument that got out of hand. We're over it now… aren't we Dan?" He glared.

"Of course we are," Dan nodded, swallowing and shifting his eyes around the room until they came to rest on the bear-shaped chair to his left. He sighed and stood up, "So don't tell your parents anything happened. If they ask… tell them that I went out for a day and a bit to relax, because that's not a lie. Got that?"

Dab hurriedly nodded.

"Goodnight, then, kid," Dan smiled, softly, giving a little wave before turning to leave the room.

Phil stayed in the room for a second, looking a tad awkward, and gave a quiet sigh.

"One more thing," he said, "When Dan left and I was all… irritable… how did you feel?"

Dab stared up to him and gave a cheery, wide smile, leaning over to his right and picking a stack of papers up from the desk beside his bed.

He held them out and Phil could see that they had patterns cut into them…

"Craft!" Dab chirruped, proudly.

"Well done, Dab… Very well done…" Phil said with a subtle smile, "Goodnight," and he left the room. He was met, outside the door, with Dan, who was standing, idly, with his back to the wall and flicking his nails, shakily.

Phil frowned, shook his head, and stepped forward.

"I'm not mad at you," he whispered, laying a gentle hand on Dan's shoulder, "You know that… don't you?"

Dan swallowed, nervously wrung out his hands and didn't make eye contact.

"I do; I do know, I just…" he began.

"You don't, do you?" Phil put in.

"I just can't understand why you're not angry at me," Dan murmured, his eyes brimming with tears.

Phil's expression softened and he shook his head again,

"I was," he said, simply, "At first, that is. But I decided that I wasn't mad as much as I was just disappointed; and not even in you, but more in myself."  
"How do you mean?"

"I was so reliant for the first few days and you did everything you could for me and when I truly believed that I was the one who got us here… I could understand you being angry with me – it wasn't your fault you snapped, it was perfectly sensible and still is – and I hated myself for that. I'd used you to my own advantage and that wasn't something I was proud of."  
"But when I came back-" Dan started, but Phil shushed him.

"I was annoyed that you didn't come back sooner, sure, whatever," he said, "But I was more annoyed that you felt that you couldn't. Why was that? Don't you feel that you can talk to me? Do I seem _cold_? Is _that_ it?"

"No, it's not that at all," Dan assured him, "It's just that I- I hurt you… physically _and_ mentally…"

Phil ran his hand down Dan's arm and to his hand, enfolding his fingers around his palm before letting go.

"I deserved that," he said, "And even after that, I hurt you, too. Did you forget about that? On Saturday I hit you in the jaw, you still have the bruise to prove it. You forgave me and agreed we were equal, and I forgave myself, too, because you did, and now that's what you have to do for yourself. These things happen, Dan; we're friends, and friends fall out all the time. This was just the same."

Dan looked up and met his gaze and suddenly he felt very small. He was brought back to the times back in 2009 when Phil was much taller, much more mature, and he looked up to him. Phil had always been able to give good advice when it was needed most, even if he didn't think he was helping much, and now it was no different.

"Thank you…" Dan whispered to him.

"Thank yourself," Phil replied, benignly, "I've been too harsh on you, I'm sorry, but we're clear now, aren't we? I'm OK, you're OK, everyone's OK… isn't that right?"  
Dan nodded, a weak smile on his face,

"You're a great pal," he said, "For not thinking bad of me…"

"Now, what kind of a friend would I be if I thought bad of you?" Phil hummed, tenderly.

Dan gave a shy laugh and averted his eyes to stare at the floorboards. He bit his lip and closed his eyes, slumping back against the wall and sliding down it a bit.

"Why can't you forgive yourself?" Phil asked.

Dan gazed upwards to him and sighed,

"I do," he said, "I really do this time."

Phil grinned and pulled him to his feet and into a hug,

"I could never let you stay upset at yourself," he breathed, "You mean too much for that. And if you ever need to talk, I'm right here… and I always will be."


	50. Consensual Violence

**A/N: Hey! So... I was supposed to upload this yesterday, but I kinda got carried away on a nostalgia trip watching videos of a theme park I used to go to every year with the fam, so I never finished it. Whoops. Do people still say 'whoops'? Probably not, let's move on.**  
 **Anyhow, it's fine, it's up now, just read.  
Ciao,  
-Whisker**

* * *

The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, the smell of fresh bed sheet linen was drifting about in the air and Dan Howell was wide-awake.

He'd woken up early when everything was quiet and the sun hadn't yet risen and the first thing he did was make sure Phil was awake… which he wasn't.

He'd laid there on the floor like an imbecile for a good ten minutes before getting up, finding a black marker pen and lying back down again beside the sofa where Phil was still fast asleep, his face hidden by the blanket and his right arm hanging, limply, over the side of the settee.

So now Dan was positioned on his back, on the floor, beside the sofa, trying as gently as he could to write 'I drew on your hand whilst you were asleep' on Phil's hand without him waking up.

It was around this time that Dil woke up and came wandering into the room, stretching his arms up and yawning as his grey bunny slippers padded on the floor.

He looked down and blinked a few times before noticing Dan, who had tipped back his head at an odd angle to be able to look up at him.

" _Good morning, Dan_ " Dil whispered, " _What are you doing?"_

Dan quietly chuckled and waved him over, putting the lid back on the marker.

Dil crouched down beside him and suppressed a laugh,

 _"I'm sure he'll appreciate that,"_ he said, sarcastically, under his breath with a smile as he stood up again.

Dan closed his eyes, laid his head back on the rug underneath him and gave a long, drawn-out sigh.

It had been a busy day yesterday and he'd been out like a light that night, getting more sleep than he usually would. He didn't know what they were going to do today but he was sure they'd think of something.

Whatever they did, he'd be happy.

As swiftly and carefully as he could, he got up from the floor and silently got to his feet, brushing himself down before heading over to the kitchen to stand beside Dil, who was contemplating whether or not to turn the tea machine on yet.

"Have you got any ideas of what to do today?" He asked.

Dil shook his head and took three mugs out of the cupboard along with a bag of tealeaves.

"Well, Dab has to go to daycare so us four can have a day doing whatever, really," he said.

Dan tapped his lip with his pen in thought.

"Could ask Phil for suggestions," he said, eventually, casting a glance behind him to his friend before turning his head back again, "Don't worry, though; you won't have to think of things for much longer, seeing as we'll be leaving soon…"

"So early?" Dil sighed with a melancholy air, "Shame. I'll miss having you and Phil around."

Dan gave a shy laugh and stretched his arms out toward the floor, rolling his shoulders, flexing his fingers and wringing his hands.

"Well, there's nothing else we need to do here anymore," he explained, "What's the point in us staying?"

Dil made an expression that made it out like he was somewhat offended, opening his mouth to speak before Dan cut him off,

"No, no, I didn't mean it like that!" Dan quickly countered, "It's not that we don't like it here with you, only…" and he gave a sigh, "I don't know what I mean…"

Dil laughed, flippantly,

"It's alright," he assured him, "I know what you meant. You have your own life back home and people who care about you, too, and it's very important that you can get back to them."

"Two days," Dan coughed, fiddling with the marker in-between his fingers, "We can have tomorrow and most of the day after with you."

Dil nodded,

"Sounds good to me, I guess," he said and he flicked the tea maker on.

The sound inevitably woke Phil, whose eyes immediately shot open and he sat up in surprise.

"Sorry…" Dil apologised, holding his hand up in a little wave.

Phil narrowed his eyes, shook his head and yawned before lolling out over the cushions and rolling over. He lay on his back, put his hands on his chest and stared, absent-mindedly, out of the window.

The sunlight stung his eyes and so he blinked a few times to clear his vision as he sat up on his elbows and brushed his fringe up, finally deciding to get up.

"Good morning…" Dan smiled, softly, as the tea machine finished boiling and Dil poured all three cups.

Phil gave a disgruntled murmur of a 'you, too' and stumbled over to him, practically falling onto his shoulder.

Dan laughed and wrapped his right arm around him, gently running a hand over his ribs before patting his back in-between his shoulder blades.

"Hey, you seem tired still, are you sure you don't want to go back to sleep?" He asked.

"I'm fine; I'll perk up," Phil yawned, going to put an arm around Dan's shoulders but deciding, half way there, that he didn't have the energy and so dropped his hand to his side again.

Dan picked up his mug and, with his free hand, took a sip whilst thoughtfully staring into nothingness before whisking his arm away from Phil's back and pushing him up straight.

"Look, you need to wake yourself up," he said.

Phil bit his lip,

"Right…" he muttered, "Be right back whilst I stick my head in a sink full of cold water…" and he buttoned up his shirt as he tiredly made his way across the room to the washroom door.

Dan smiled, wondering when Phil would discover the pen on his hand (which he'd signed, too, with '-Danny' written at the top of his wrist).

"You know what?" Dil hummed, thoughtfully, "I hope one day Dab will find a friend and they'll be as close as you and Phil."

"Oh, do you?" Dan chuckled, "I do, too…" and he closed his eyes.

"Do you two ever argue?" Dil asked.

Dan's eyes darted open and he swallowed,

"Not a lot…" he replied, hurriedly, "We argue a bit about… little things. We've only really ever had a couple of bad arguments…"

"Recently?"

"Quite, yes."

"You'd never be able to tell from how you are now!" Dil beamed.

"Really? That's good…" Dan said, exhaling in relief (it didn't seem that Dil had picked up on anything), "Because if it looked as if we-"

He was going to continue, but a loud and slightly irritated shout interrupted him.

"DA-ANN!"

It was Phil, of course, who came back into the room a moment later, the tips of his fringe still dripping wet and a not-quite-angry frown on his face as if he was trying to look annoyed but holding back laughter.

"Sorry, pal," Dan smirked, his dimples showing up like tiny holes at the sides of his mouth.

Phil gritted his teeth, looked down to the floor and gave a short, sharp snigger, holding his hand by the wrist and trying to rub off the marker with his thumb. It wasn't working.

" _I hate you, Dan…"_ he tutted, but he never meant it.

He looked up to meet Dan's gaze, seeming awake at last.

"I guess this'll just have to stay on my hand for the rest of the day, then," he muttered, his voice husky but not cold.

"Come here," Dan giggled to himself, waving him over, "Nice to wake up to a bit of humour, right?"

Phil wandered over to him, gave him a jesting cuff to the arm and tapped his foot on the floorboards.

"Yeah," he scoffed, "Humour – right…"

"So... you _don't_ fight?" Dil put in, addressing Dan.

"I prefer to dub it 'consensual violence'…" Phil told him with a flat tone to his voice, picking up the marker from the counter and swiftly taking the lid off to slip his arm around Dan and dot a spot of ink on the left side of his face.

"Oi, oi," Dan huffed, blithely, sniggering and swiping the pen from his hand, "Consent, remember?"

"On a par now," Phil reasoned.

"Alright, mate," Dan settled, flinging the pen (after putting its lid back on, thankfully) over his shoulder to land on the sofa behind them, "Still want your son to have a friendship like this?" He asked Dil.

Dil took a long sip of tea, put his hand on his side and sighed,

"I'll admit, I'm starting to re-evaluate…"


	51. Municipal Muses

One day.

That was all that everyone had with each other before Phil and Dan… left.

It was Wednesday afternoon and the whole family was trooping down the street in Potter's Splay; they'd decided (with Tabitha's suggestion) to take a day trip to the 'Municipal Muses' museum all the way on the other side of Willow Creek. It would be a nice trip out together, they thought, just sitting about and admiring some art.

Only, in the Sims universe, nothing ever really seemed to go conventionally.

Dan was beginning to sense a trend in the buildings: white, antique and surrounded by cherry blossom trees in full bloom. Everything always _seemed_ posh, but nobody in town – apart from maybe the Landgraabs – actually were.

There was a small brick wall surrounding the museum with two gaps in it leading to the entrance and the garden, respectively.

The entrance to the building itself was lifted off the ground with two sets of steps on either side of the patio leading up to it, black, old-fashioned posts supporting the balcony-type canopy above it.

The museum was, of course, white – built with boards instead of brick with five windows on the front of it, filtering light inside to highlight the art placed in the areas it would shine.

Neither Dil nor Tabitha had been here in a while, and Dab had never been in his life. Dan and Phil only hoped that he wouldn't knock over anything valuable…

"It's a bit… bare…" Phil observed when they entered through the door, gazing about the room.

"I think the word you're looking for is minimalist," Dan corrected, quietly, rubbing his shoulder.

"I mean… there's not much art," Phil continued, under his breath so that nobody would hear, even though nobody was even around apart from himself, Dan, Dil, Dab and Tabitha.

To his right was a suit of armour stood in the corner with two podiums on either side of it, bearing a strange statue of some sort of dog-like creature on the left and a marble bust on the right, shields with dragons on hanging on the wall behind.

Right in front of him, Dan observed, there was a tall staircase leading to the first floor, and to the left of that was some… _art_ … displayed on the wall on either side of a window, and a tall plant was plonked in the corner at the back of the room to bring some colour to the very dull building. Beside the plant was a door.

Dan would have preferred to go outside and sit in the garden underneath a very aesthetic cherry blossom tree, but Dil insisted that they explore upstairs.

"I remember coming here and naming one of the paintings," he'd chirped, taking Dan by the sleeve, "I want to see if it's still there."

Dan had asked why on Earth it _wouldn't_ still be there, but Dil hadn't really listened and had dragged him upstairs anyway. Phil had followed close behind; he couldn't remember naming any paintings and was very curious as to what it was that they had called it.

When they'd gotten to the top of the staircase (leaving Tabitha and her child on the ground floor), they were met with a statue of a boat placed atop another hourglass-shaped podium.

Turning about, Dan saw, behind him, a painting he recognised. It was of a teapot and some apples over a light purple background, balanced carefully on an easel.

"There it is!" Dil exclaimed (quietly, because they were in a museum, remember) before bounding over to it.

Phil and Dan followed him, silent as mice, and looked over his shoulders as he turned over the canvas to read the pencil on the back.

"'Susan 2'," Dan read, flashing a glance to Phil.

Phil looked back to him with an air of surprise,

"So… we named a canvas that we didn't even paint 'Susan 2' before we named the fish?" He asked, suddenly realising it.

"Apparently so," Dan nodded, frowning, "We really need to stop naming things Susan…"

Phil sniggered to himself, looked out of the window beside him and stared up into the cloudless sky. They didn't get weather like this back in England.

It was then that he saw his reflection in the glass… only, it wasn't just himself who he could see, but another figure wearing a long, yellow dress.

And she looked very angry with him.


	52. Sorry For the Misunderstanding

"Hello there…" Dan waved as he turned around to face the woman in the yellow dress. Phil had alerted him via a tug to the sleeve and a frightened glace flashed his way.

He didn't really want to get into a conversation with Erica, but she seemed to be purposefully standing there, waiting for them to turn around and notice her, so he felt he had to greet her.

He said hello with a smile, trying to act as friendly as he could. He didn't know why she looked so annoyed: what had they done to her? They even invited her to the party yesterday.

It was then that he noticed that Erica had a friend with her: Summer Holiday.

"What's this party I wasn't invited to, then?" Erica snapped.

Dan tilted his head to the side and Phil slowly and nervously turned around to face them.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Dan replied, "We _did_ invite you…"

"Well, I didn't get any phone call or invitation through my door," Erica retorted, "Apparently you called everyone else in town; why not _me?"_

"But we did, that's just the thing," Phil said, quietly, "I even convinced Dan to put you on the list. I thought it only fair… Dil called everyone, maybe you just didn't hear your phone…"

Dil was still staring at Susan 2, his hands shaking as he placed the canvas back on the easel.

"You did invite everyone… didn't you?" Dan asked him, raising an eyebrow.

Dil swallowed, clenched and unclenched his fists and span around to look to Erica.

"I… I didn't think you'd want to come…" he stuttered.

"DIL!" Phil snapped, irritably. Was Dil even _trying_ to get on Erica's good side?

"I knew you'd leave me out!" Erica huffed, angrily, and threw her arms down to her sides in a somewhat violent manner.

"We'll have a stern word," Dan assured her.

"I bet you did it on purpose: you just want me to feel left out, don't you?" Erica spat.

"No, no, I'm sure they didn't," Summer put in, speaking up at last, "They're such nice people and they even mentioned – or at least Phil did – that it was strange how you never turned up," and she glared at Dil from the corner of her eye, "It's just Dil who didn't want to invite you… you can't expect anything from the guy; he's dumped every girl he's ever known."

"Hey! That's not true!" Dil whined, "I'm married now with a son and we all live very happily together," he insisted.

"Just think of all the girls you've abandoned…"

"It wasn't working out! I tried, but-"

"Now Phil, on the other hand…" Summer mused, "I bet he'd be a great boyfriend."

Phil choked on his own breath in surprise and shook his head,

"No, not me," he denied, "I think Dan's got it bad enough just putting up with me-"

"I'm serious," Summer hummed, giving him a… _strange_ smile as she slowly blinked, "You're so tall and formal and your accent is so rich-"

"Alright, alright, that's enough," Dan butted in, tugging Phil towards him and hugging him to his side with one arm, "We're out of town from tomorrow anyway."

Summer's face fell,

"Oh, yeah…" she sighed, "I forgot about that…"

"What's that? Out of town?" Erica interjected, folding her arms, "Where are you two going off to, then?"

"Oh, we don't live around here," Phil explained, "We've just been staying with Dil and Tabitha for a while. We're going back home tomorrow, so you won't have to see us again after that."

"Really?" Erica mused aloud, "What a shame…"

Phil scowled, wonder what in the world she could be plotting this time. He softened his expression, though, when Dan gave him a nudge to the arm.

"Thought you'd be glad for us to be away," he coughed, his voice blithe but his mood not.

"Oh, really, what would ever give you that idea?" Erica asked, slightly sarcastically, putting her hands on her hips.

"Sorry for all the misunderstanding," Phil apologised, putting his hands behind his back and hanging his head. He lifted his gaze for a moment and looked about the room to see that there were two people – one man wearing a green jumper and a black cap facing backwards and the other was a young woman who looked as if she came from Oasis Springs – of whom both looked a little bit annoyed at the interruption from their art-admiring, but mostly quite interested as to what was going on.

"Yeah, you should be," Erica rejoined.

Dil did not appreciate her talking to his creators in that manner, so glowered at her and folded his arms.

"Are we civil now?" He asked, huffily.

"I don't think we'll ever be," Erica replied, shaking her head, "Not if you carry on like this, you impolite, selfish, callous little-"

"Excuse me?" Phil put in, loudly, and Erica shut her mouth, abruptly, staring up to him.

For the first time, Phil actually looked angry. Not in his face, but in his eyes. There was a glare in them that could only be described as the frustration of a lion who was about to eat a trembling baby deer.

Erica suddenly thought back to Saturday morning at 2AM and she straightened her back, brushing herself off.

"Apologies," she said, wringing her hands and clearing her throat, "I really should be going…" she swivelled on her heels to turn away and, in a leap and a flutter of yellow fabric, she was gone.

Summer stood, taken-aback, made awkward eye contact with Dil, mimed 'call me' to Phil and span to hurry after her friend, bounding down the stairs.

"I hope she never comes around ever again," Dil sighed.

"Next time, I'll bop her in the shnoz," Phil sniggered before Dan gave him a _look_ , "I'm joking, of course. I attempt to avoid conflict as much as possible. Though I do hope I don't have to see her again…"

"What was all that about?" Came Tabitha's voice all of a sudden.

Looking up, Dil saw her stood at the top of the stairs, Dab holding her hand, and looking quite concerned.

"Nothing, nothing," Dan assured her, "I just think Phil and I need to have a word with your husband."


	53. Happiness

**A/N: Hey! As you read this chapter (or after you read it, I don't mind), I really recommend you please listen to a song called 'Happiness' by Jonsi and Alex. I listened to it whilst I was writing this and... wow... I felt an emotion.**  
 **So I really hope you do that and enjoy this chapter to the fullest extent.**  
 **Ciao!**  
 **-Whisker**

* * *

The grass outside was soft, clean and slightly damp with dewdrops, smelling refreshing and cooling in the surprisingly warm evening.

It was 6PM and everyone was sat outside in the museum garden, watching the sun go down.

The towering building of the museum was ahead of them and they were all laid down under the shade of the two cherry-blossom trees in the corners of the garden – Phil and Dan under one the Howlters under the other.

Everything was silent.

Phil and Dan had previously had a 'talk' with Dil about common courtesy, but they didn't want to be too harsh on him. After all, this was their last night all together and they wouldn't want to spoil it all with an argument.

Tearing his eyes from the sunset, Phil turned his head to his right to see Dan, who had undone the three buttons on his black polo shirt and was looking a bit weary but very swept away by the scenery.

Phil swallowed and gave a sigh, closing his eyes for a few seconds to steady his tired, blurred vision before flicking his wrist up to tap Dan's arm.

Dan slowly turned his vision to him and gave a little smile,

"Hey," he breathed, "What's up?"

"I… want to go home," Phil replied, awkwardly, his face turning slightly red.

"Oh, OK, sure," Dan nodded, seemingly surprised, "I mean, it's getting late any-"

"No, I mean… like… real home," Phil clarified.

Dan sighed and sat up on his shoulders, biting his lip before folding his legs underneath him and kneeling. He flashed a glance to Dil, Tabitha and Dab, who were sat at the other end of the yard, past a table and chairs, too far away to hear them speak.

"What if it doesn't work, Dan?" Phil asked in a whisper.

"I'm sure it'll be fine, mate," Dan assured him.

"Hey, look me in the eyes when you're talking to me," Phil ordered.

Dan turned back to Phil again, who had shakily sat up with his legs crossed in front of him.

"It'll be OK," he repeated.

"But what if it's not?" Phil swallowed.

Silence.

They both held eye contact for a while. There was something about the light of the moon coming up mixed with the sun going down that made Phil seem even paler than he usually was. Dan noted that his scar was almost non-existent, only a tiny dot on the side of his face that marked what had once been a worryingly deep gouge.

Biting his lip again, Dan reached to put his arm around Phil's shoulders and pull him a fraction closer to rub his arm.

"Don't worry about it, Philly," he hushed, "Nothing good ever came from worrying. And if it doesn't work out… just know that I've really enjoyed this whole experience, I think it's meant a lot..."

Phil gave a weak laugh and wrapped his arms around him,

"Me, too," he agreed in a hushed voice.

Dan quietly laughed into his shoulder and slipped his hands under his friend's arms and lightly laid his palms on his back. He felt gaunt and his paper-thin shirt seemed to hang loosely on him – too loosely, in fact. He smelled of freshly washed linen bed-sheets mixed with the scent of damp grass, but felt warm and gentle, even if a bit shaky.

"It's going to be alright," Dan reassured him, moving a hand onto the back of his neck.

It only took a few moments before he started to feel gentle, warm dripping on his shoulder and he slightly turned his head to Phil.

He smiled, but it was strained, and Dan could see him shaking and the occasional tears trickling from his eyes and down his face.

 _'I've gone and done it again…'_ Dan thought to himself with an audible sigh before going to rub his friend's back,

"Hey, it's OK, shhh…" he whispered, "I told you not to worry about it, now c'mon; cheer up, you…" and he lifted his gaze to look up at the dark sky.

The sun had gone down fully by now and the first few stars of the night were starting to show, presenting themselves one after the other, sending a little shiver down Dan's spine every time he saw another one.

He closed his eyes again and focused on the crinkle of leaves blowing through the bushes and the hushed sound of Phil's breathing: the only sounds to hear on such a serene and unruffled night. The calm was almost enough to put him to sleep.

He probably would have fallen asleep, too, if he hadn't have felt a gentle tug at the edge of his shirt, bringing him back to reality.

The air was getting cooler and he didn't want to let go of the only warmth he had left, so he simply tilted his head to the right to see Dab stood there, a concerned expression on his little face, still holding onto the fringe of his top.

"You… alwight?" Dab asked.

"Of course I am!" Dan breathed, "I'm _fine."_

"Uncuw Fiw?"  
"Yes, he's fine, too; we both are."

There was silence again before Dab somehow shuffled himself between Dan and Phil and reached up to loop one arm around both of them.

This was, as aforementioned, their last night together… but Dab didn't know that. He had yet to be told; tonight when they all got home, maybe.

But if anything _did_ go wrong – as Phil was thinking to himself – this would be one of their last interactions _ever_. They were making a big choice here: the barrier could do _anything_ , how were they to know it would let them return back?

They didn't.

And that was the ugly truth, but it was a factor that they had to bear in mind, and it wasn't really a decision that they could choose not to make.

Whatever happened, they had to keep a positive outlook: hope for the best and believe… _they were going home._


	54. We're Going Home

The Howlter Residence, Potter's Splay, Wednesday, 7:30PM.

Another long day was behind them, and a very dramatic day lay ahead.

One last night.

One last night in Willow Creek, in Potter's splay, in the living room, buried in cushions, in pitch black and silence and waking up to the first rays of dawn and the sights of such a eccentric house: the porcelain pig, the magenta drinks bar, the llama hedge outside the window… all of it… it'd be gone the next day.

And they'd probably never see it again.

Of course, they'd see it on a screen and they'd still be able to take care of everyone, but… it just wouldn't be the same.

One night.

Dan gazed around the room as Dil flipped the light switch and the house flickered to life. He made sure to take in every little thing just one last time in this lighting.

He had memories stored in every corner: the space in front of the window, under the TV and behind the coffee table was what had been his bed for over a week, beside the computer desk held memories of last night's dance, the kitchen reminded him of making dinners, washing up and baking pumpkin spice pumpkin cookies; and the table? Well… let's not get into the table, but that held memories, too.

Dil and Tabitha had already started getting their son ready for bed, but Dan and Phil stayed by the door, just… staring.

"How long have we been here, Phil?" Dan asked.

Phil rolled his shoulders; deep in thought, he bit his thumbnail and recited the days in his head. They'd all seemed to blur into one… especially over Thursday to Saturday, when Dan hadn't been with him.

Wednesday was when Dil and Tabitha had left, Tuesday was when he and Dan had gone out on a walk on their own and had a coffee and a… chat, Monday was when they met Erica for the first time and went to Chez Llama in the evening, Sunday was when Dil and Tabitha had invited them to stay and that was the day after they arrived, so…

"Twelve days," Phil decided with a nod, seeing as it was Thursday today.

"So when we go home tomorrow, it will have been almost two weeks?"

"Yes, Sherlock; yes, it will."

"Alright, Phil," Dan sniggered, "No need to be like that. Are you tired?"

"Yeah…" Phil nodded, "Very."

And he looked it, too: rings around his eyes and posture almost as bad as Dan's, yet he still seemed bright. That was Phil for you.

Dan put an arm around him again. He always felt as if he should have him close and keep him warm, so always had a hand on his shoulder blades, whether sitting down, walking down the street or anything in-between.

They were about to collapse down on the settee, but before they could, Tabitha came out of Dab's room and beckoned them forward.

 _"I think you should tell him,"_ she whispered to them.

"Really?" Phil asked, "You don't think he'd prefer you to tell him?"

"No, I think you two better had," Tabitha assured him, patting them both on the shoulders, "Oh, and guys?"

"Yeah?"  
"I know I'm not really special to you, seeing as you didn't… create me… but I want you to know that I really am grateful for both of you."  
"What are you talking about?" Dan choked on his breath, "Of course you're special; just because we didn't create you doesn't mean we don't care. Whatever would make you think that?"

"Oh, I don't know…" Tabitha sighed, pausing for a second and giggling slightly, "I just hope you do realise that you've been a massive help and it's been such a great experience meeting you."

"The pleasure is all ours," Dan told her, and both he and Phil gave her a quick hug each before they wandered into the child's bedroom.

"Hey, Dab!" Dan smiled, though inside his heart sank from knowing he and Phil were the ones who had to break the news.

"Hello, Uncuw An!" Dab chirruped in his usual bubbly manner, "Mummy say you need to tell me somefing?"

"Yeah, we kinda' do…" Phil swallowed, kneeling down beside the bed, "I'll make it quick, alright? In the morning… we – that's me and uncle Dan – we're going back home."  
"Home?" Dab repeated, frowning in confusion, "This is home…"

Dan gave a short, nervous laugh and put a hand on the bed sheets at the foot of the bed, supporting himself as he sat down on the carpet.

"Not for us," he said, simply, "We live… a long way away from here… and tomorrow we're going back to where we came from."

"But… I fought you were family?"

"Not quite. We're… your uncles in respect…"

Dab looked back at him, completely baffled.

"Your dad will explain when you're a bit older," Phil said, "But for now all you have to understand is that from tomorrow, we won't be here anymore. You'll look at where we were and we simply won't be there. That's _really_ all you have to know."

Dab's eyes started to water.

"No, no, don't start the crying thing," Phil stuttered, "It's alright, we'll still be watching over you and protecting you and all that-"

 _"How?"_ Dab sniffed.

Phil bit his tongue and shook his head,

"Your dad will explain that, too, but remember that we'll always be here… in your mind… right?" He tried to explain.

His explanation wasn't really comprehensible to a toddler, but Dab seemed to be soothed somewhat by his words and wiped his eyes dry.

Phil and Dan gave him smiles of conciliation before standing up again,

"We're going quite early, but don't worry, we won't go without you being able to say goodbye, OK?" Dan comforted him, "Goodnight, kid."

"Goodnight, Uncuw An; goodnight Uncuw Fiw…" Dab yawned as they left the room.

He didn't want them to go, but as a toddler, there wasn't much he could do but accept it.

Dan and Phil would miss hearing him say their names (almost) in his tiny, adorable voice, but they were too tired right now to stay and talk any longer, so wandered back into the living room and curled up on the sofa.

Everyone else was already in bed.

It was dark – very dark.

Phil made sleepy eye contact with Dan, eyelids almost not staying open, and didn't even have the energy for a goodnight hug before limply lolling out over the cushions.

Dan was exhausted, too. He didn't know why: they'd hardly done anything all day, but he was still worn out.

So he sprawled out on the floor, wrapped his blanket around himself and gave a tired sigh.

He'd miss this place.

He'd miss everything about it.

But there was nothing more that he or Phil could do.

He reached out to clasp his fingers around Phil's hand before dropping his arm back down on the floor beside him and he starting to hum one of their favourite songs to lull them both to sleep on their very last night in Potter's Splay.


	55. Toward the Morning Sun

And so the day rolled around. It was inevitable that it was going to happen and, as much as they'd like to stay longer, they'd rather be back home again where things were under control.

Thursday – the thirteenth day – the last day.

Dil had given them back the clothes they'd arrived in (a black, button-down collar shirt and a grey jumper with foxes embroidered onto it) and had spent the first hour of waking telling Phil and Dan how much he'd enjoyed their company.

Even though they already knew.

It was a sad day, sure, but it was also a huge relief and a giant weight off their shoulders. How nice it would surely be to be back in familiar surroundings, in their own apartment and in their own rooms.

Yet, more importantly, back in their own universe.

They still had no idea how they got here in the first place, but what did it matter now? Perhaps they'd never understand, but that wasn't the point and it never had been.

It had been a great experience for them – for everyone, in fact: Dan, Phil, Dil, Tabitha and even Dab.

But all good things must come to an end and now it was time to go.

Phil had spent a whole half hour going around the house and making sure to hug every wall, take in everything in every room and making absolute certain that everything was perfect.

Dan, on the other hand, had spent that time sat at the kitchen table, making a list of life lessons for Dab, who had only just woken up and was currently eating what was left of the cereal, a somewhat sad expression on his face.

This list included things such as the very important lessons of: 'always be forgiving (even if someone pushes you into a table)', 'Be considerate and invite everyone to your house parties' and of course, 'Don't eat people's cereal without permission'.

Dan chewed the end of his pencil, of which was covered in bite marks, and scanned over his list one last time.

"Phil!" He called, loudly but not _too_ loudly.

"Yeah?" Phil replied, appearing from the bedroom doorway, "What is it?"

"Come here," Dan said, waving him over but not tearing his eyes from the paper, "Do you think there's anything I should add?"

Phil stood behind him and thought for a while, inaudibly whispering to himself as he did,

"Nah, I think you're good," he answered, eventually, but then seemed to reconsider, "Actually, there might be _one_ thing…" and he took the pencil from Dan's hand to scruffily write 'don't cry, craft' at the end of the list.

He gave a satisfied smile and nodded his head,

"That's much better."

"Much," Dan agreed with a short, quiet laugh, tipping his head back to look behind him, "What time is it?"

Phil cleared his throat, took his phone from his back pocket and checked the time before replacing it,

"Seven," he told Dan, cracking his knuckles and heaving a heavy sigh, "We should be leaving…"

They'd wanted to make it early so that there was plenty of time before Dil and Tabitha had to go to work and Dab had to go to nursery, just so that everyone had plenty of time to adjust.

Dan's face fell and he hunched his shoulders, leaning forward on the chair, taking one last look around the room.

"You're right," he swallowed before sliding his chair back and getting to his feet, shakily.

"You're… leaving?" Came Dil's voice from beside them. He'd emerged from the bedroom, looking worn-out still, and a little bit cheerless.

"I'm afraid so…" Phil mumbled, "It has to happen sometime, right? That's if you're ready, too, of course."

Dil forced his expression into a smile and nodded,

"Of course," he assented, "As long as you are, I am, too."

"How about Tabitha? Where's she?" Dan asked, looking about. He and Phil had both made it their aim to show Tabitha that they cared about her, after what she'd said last night.

"She's ready, I think," Dil replied, "She's just in the bedroom, making the bed, trying to act like it's a normal day, you know?"

Phil laughed, nervously,

"Don't worry," he said, "The sooner it's over, the sooner you lot can get back to your usual routine."

"I suppose you're right… should I go and get her?" Dil sighed.

"If you don't mind, yeah," Dan muttered, turning around to see Dab, who was sat with his bowl of cereal on the settee.

"You going now?" He asked, despondently.

Dan gave him a regretful nod, accompanied by a reassuring smile,

"Don't worry, though," he said, "We'll always be here in your mind, remember?"

Dab smiled and got up off the sofa, toddled over to the kitchen, reached up to put his empty bowl on the counter top before wobbling into his bedroom as fast as his little legs could carry him.

Dan took this opportunity to put his arm, once again, around Phil's shoulders and gently rub his back. It had occurred to him all of a sudden that they could actually _die_ today if something _really_ went _horribly wrong_.

Best not to think about it.

He folded the paper with his spare hand and set it back down on the table, sliding the edge under the momentum conserver to keep it in place.

"What do we do?" Phil asked in a whisper, "When we get to the forest, that is."

"Everything," Dan replied, simply.

"That's not much of an answer," Phil frowned, "What do you mean 'everything'? We were going to break through it, weren't we? How?"

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it, don't worry," Dan assured him as Dab came wobbling back into the room and made his way toward Phil until he stopped in front of him and held up a piece of paper in his hands.

"For you!" He chirped.

Phil was a little bit taken-aback, but knelt down – Dan taking his arm away from his shoulders as he did – and, his eyes watering again, gave the child one last hug.

"Thanks," he whispered, "You've always been better at drawing than me," and he softly took the paper in-between his fingers, unfolding it as he stood back up straight again.

It was simple - a crayon drawing of them all together, like the one he'd drawn on Friday but surprisingly quite a lot better. He'd improved a lot in only a few days.

Dan was on the left, drawn in black crayon with a smiley face and very curly hair. Phil was next to him in red, also with a cheery smile on his face, and little Dab stood on the right in blue. They were all holding hands like the good friends they were.

Phil gazed down to Dab's expectant face and grinned,

"I'll keep this very safe," he said, assuredly, and as he looked to the bedroom door, Dil and Tabitha entered the room.

"We really ought to be going," Dan said with a cough. He'd gotten his shoes on (as had Phil) already in preparation of leaving swiftly.

"I'm so sorry to see you go," Tabitha smiled, "Maybe we'll see you again sometime."

"Maybe," Phil answered, though he wasn't too sure of that fact. He certainly _hoped_ it'd be within his power to return.

"Any last requests before we go?" Dan asked, realising that he could easily grant the Howlters anything they wanted… within reason.

"Not really," Tabitha replied, politely, "Just remember to be happy as usual, alright?"

She said this just as Dil said,

"Could I have a freeze ray?"

Phil and Dan both gave a chuckle,

"We'll see what we can do," Dan hummed.

"And promise us something, too," Phil put in, suddenly, "Don't forget about us, alright? Remember that we'll always be watching over you-"

"-Sometimes at strange and inappropriate moments-" Dan added.

"Yes, but that's part of the deal," Phil nodded, conclusively, before putting the paper in his hand into his back pocket and holding out his arms, "How about one final hug before we leave?"

And so there were hugs all round – especially long for Tabitha – just in case anything _did_ go… awry.

"We'll see you around one day," Dil grinned, "Keep in touch if the phone works through the barrier, OK?"

"We will," Dan assured him, tears beginning to form in his eyes for the first time in days, "Of course we will…"

"We have to leave now…" Phil coughed, "So I suppose this is goodbye, right?"

"Yeah," Dil nodded, "Goodbye, guys…"

"See you," Tabitha chimed in.

"Goodbye Uncuw Fiw and Uncuw An," Dab breathed. He was perfectly capable of saying their names properly, but there was something about calling them 'Fiw' and 'An' that was just that bit more endearing.

So Dan and Phil saluted them all and, for almost certainly the last time ever, stepped out of the door and into the open.

Ahead they could see the Pancakes' house with its balconies and porches and as they turned around one last time to look behind, they saw the owl slide, the llama hedge, the lawn flamingo and the lines of unplanted roses along the path that somehow hadn't died yet.

"Ready?" Dan asked.

Phil nodded and slipped his hands into his back jean pockets to keep his hands warm as both he and Dan turned back around to head towards the forest: the forest a way behind Pendula View and Hallow Slough; that one at the edge of Willow Creek that stretched on even further than the end of the map.

As they walked, their footsteps together the only sound to be heard, seeming to echo through the street, they thought of everything they'd learned and done in their time here. It had been worth it, they supposed, to fall out for a few days, as long as it had brought them closer as the best friends that they were.

In the quiet and the still air, Dan turned to his right to gaze slightly downwards to his friend: he was looking down at the path underneath him, a melancholy smile on his face. His scar was completely healed and the bruise around his eye had vanished. Maybe it was a metaphor for how their friendship had healed over the past five days.

Pulling him slightly closer by his ribcage, Dan cleared his throat,

"How would you describe your whole experience, then?" He asked, breaking the silence.

Phil looked up and bit his tongue in thought, emitting a long hum from the back of his throat,

"What's a better word for weird and surprising?" He asked, poring over his mind to find the term he was looking for.

Dan's knowledge of the thesaurus and the dictionary was put to use here and he immediately suggested, before Phil could reply,

"Outré?"

Phil gave a firm nod of approval, deciding that he liked that word and that it was very fitting with his last 13 days.

"Yeah…" he settled, "Outré…"

* * *

It wasn't long before they reached the forest. Between the firs, the pines and the branches, past the leaves and into the circle of light: a patch where there were no trees overhead at all and the sun could shine down into the grass below.

Staring up, they saw the blurry trees behind the glass, the barrier itself shimmering with a strange radiance that travelled across the screen depending on where you were stood.

Phil's breath staggered just looking at it, his nerves causing a shiver that moved down his spine before turning into sharp, stabbing pain in his chest with every heartbeat.

He shook his head as another shiver travelled down his back and to his legs, trying to get the thoughts of anything going terribly, horribly awry out of his head.

Dan noticed his juddering and tenderly patted his shoulder blades, his heartbeat pumping so violently that Dan could feel it through his fingers.

"Hey, don't worry; I'm right here," he said, calmly, a confident air to his voice.

"What are we going to do?" Phil asked, shakily, turning so fast to Dan that his fringe flipped across his face.

"We're going to break it… somehow…" Dan explained, bending down to pick up a large rock by his feet that he'd almost tripped over a few moments before.

"What if it's un-breakable?" Phil hissed to him, under his breath, even though nobody was around to hear.

"Then we'll try something else until we find a way," Dan replied, standing up straight again.

The stone he was holding was bigger than his hand and was almost large enough to cover his whole face; if anything could break down a barrier between worlds, it would be this rock.

"Now, are you ready?" He asked one last time, waiting for the answer to inevitably be 'no, not just yet… I can't do it...'

On the contrary, he was surprised.

"As ready as I'll ever be," Phil told him, as self-assuredly as he could, "Let's go."


	56. Thank You

Warm.

The smell of warm.

The smell of home.

That's what Dan and Phil were confronted by a few seconds after the barrier was broken: warmth.

They had stood back to break through it – the rock had made a crack for them – and used their whole body strength to shatter the whole thing. Pieces of what looked like glass flew past them everywhere and they both closed their eyes to save from getting glass in them.

They still had their eyes squeezed shut when they… _landed_ with a clatter onto the office floor. There had been a rather concerning crack, too, which Phil couldn't tell whether was the sofa bed or one of his bones.

Finally opening his eyes, slowly, he found himself on his back on the sofa bed; Dan lay on the floor beside him, also breathing heavily.

"We did it…" Phil whispered, jolting upright and staring around the room. Everything was there, exactly as they'd left it: the computer was switched on, lighting up one of the screens, and all of their camera equipment was set up beside it, ready to record.

Phil couldn't see what was on the screen, what with being almost blind without his glasses and all, but he didn't really care: he was home and that was all that mattered.

"Am I dead?" Dan yelped, sitting bolt upright and pinching himself on the arm. He felt pain, so clearly he wasn't dreaming.

"I can't believe it worked," Phil swallowed before turning to Dan and laughing, "It actually worked!"

Dan choked a startled and amazed laugh, getting to his feet and putting his hands on top of his heart, an astounded expression on his face.

He looked down to Phil, took his hands, pulled him off the sofa, to his feet and wrapped him in his arms, breath wobbling and legs trembling.

"I never thought I'd be so happy to see this room in my life," Phil stuttered, trying to summon enough strength into his legs to be able to stand on his own.

His heart was throbbing through his chest and he wasn't sure how he was feeling… it was a mix between relieved and also slightly pained that he had to be back in the real world and do proper human things now.

Dan let him stand alone and calmed his breathing,

"Me, neither," he agreed, gasping for air. Everything had happened all at once: saying goodbye, walking to the forest, breaking the barrier and now getting home… all in around an hour.

He turned to his right, seeing the computer screen and realising that The Sims 4 was running on fast-forward, the camera idle, as usual turning itself off after only 20 minutes.

"Hey, all of that wouldn't have happened if you hadn't have been tinkering with that thing," Phil sniggered as Dan took a seat at his chair in front of the monitor.

"' _Tinkering_ '?" Dan repeated, "Do you really want to say tinkering?"

"I like the word tinker," Phil replied, "As I was saying, it's all this that actually caused that whole thing."  
"I'm sorry about that," Dan sighed, biting his lip.

"What are you talking about? Don't be sorry!" Phil insisted, "It's been great, it really has."

Dan gave him a warm smile,

"If you say so," he said, "I thought you'd had a horrible time."

"No way! Look at me! Do I look like I've had a horrible time to you? In fact, I'd like to thank you for the experience," Phil chuckled, holding his arms out to his sides before putting his hands in his pockets, his fingertips feeling the familiar texture of paper.

As he took it out of his pocket, he opened it up he saw that it was Dab's drawing of all three of them together.

When Phil looked up again, the room around him seemed to flash back to Potter's Splay with everyone's faces staring up to him before returning to normal.

It was an odd feeling, quite un-nerving, but it passed soon enough.

It was strange thinking how it could have not been real… and nobody would believe him if he told them, of course, but _he_ knew it was real… and he had the drawing to prove it.

He placed the paper on the table beside the monitor and sat down on his chair, brushing himself down and gazing at the screen to see what was happening. He could see, now that he was closer, that the days had flown past to Saturday at around 11PM; of course, Sim days were a lot shorter than real days, so it had probably taken two virtual days to get through the barrier.

"Pause it," Phil ordered, straightening the neck of his jumper and resetting the camera to start filming again, "I think we should film that gaming video we never got around to recording."

"Really?" Dan laughed, "Alright then, I guess we can… and we can upload on Saturday…"

Phil nodded, placing the camera back in position and pressing record, quickly thinking of something to start the video with.

"Ready?" He asked.

Dan grinned and nodded, straightening his collar and making sure he was presentable before he cleared his throat.

Phil gave a last smile and cleared his throat, sitting up straight to begin.

He knew what his intro should be.

"Hello, Dan and Phil Games _tinkerers_!"

THE END

* * *

 **A/N: What an experience, eh? Thank you all so much for coming with me on this adventure and for showing all your support; I've really appreciated every comment I've received, and I'm not just saying it. This has been great, and who knows? There might even be a sequel sometime...**

 **So thanks muchly once again,**

 **This really was the most fun I've ever had.**

 **-Whisker**


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